Masters and Commanders
by willyolioleo
Summary: Slightly AU, neutral, male, Vanguard Shepard. A retelling of the trilogy where the Reapers truly have a grand purpose for their actions. Rated M for language and future scenes. No pairings planned at the moment.
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes: **Bioware owns Mass Effect.

- Welcome to my Mass Effect fic! Much like my Harry Potter fanfic, a highly unsatisfactory ending combined with numerous head-scratching plotholes has inspired me to write a fanfic of the Mass Effect universe. As a warning, much of this story will be **AU**. Slightly less in some areas, slightly more in others. I will say for now that the ending I have in mind is wildly different- the purpose of the Reapers will not be summed up in one Xzibit meme.

- additional note: I've completely rewritten the prologue, for various reasons.

* * *

**Prologue**

_Awaken. Begin the March._

In the dark, empty void between galaxies, three red lights flared to life. A massive ebony hull turned to face the Milky Way galaxy, focusing on a densely packed nebula on the Norma arm. This was not supposed to happen. For a hundred thousand cycles, this had never happened. They had not received the signal from the modeller.

They had woken up late.

The waking signal had not come from the modeller at all. They received the call from the maintainer. The maintainer included its observation logs.

* * *

Error noted. Cycle was shortened by eight standard deviations. Inherent Mass effect usage. Modeller is unresponsive. Likelihood of interference extremely high. Species analysis performed. Physiological, genetic, and cultural markers remarkably similar to preceding cycle. Species is unsuitable. Probability of noise from preceding cycle causing interference is 0.9624. Species is to be eliminated.

Error noted. Mass effect use increased. Multiple species present. Second species analysis performed. Physiological, genetic, and cultural markers remarkably similar to preceding cycle. Species is unsuitable. Probability of noise from preceding cycle causing interference is 0.9963. Both species to be eliminated.

Error noted. Mass effect use increased. Multiple species present. Third species analysis performed. Physiological, genetic, and cultural markers identified as unique. Species is suitable candidate. Probability of interference from present species certain. Probability of noise from preceding cycle causing interference is 0.145. All species to be eliminated.

Natural selection overridden. Candidate species number 298 selected for uplifting and eradication of candidate species 173, 206, and 313. Eradication protocol has begun.

Error noted. Mass effect use increased. Fourth species uplifted by species 206. Species 298 eradicated. Cycle has now been extended by 0.00974. Modeller remains unresponsive.

Potential eradication of species 173, 205, and 313 by uplifted species. Observing.

Eradication failed. Cycle has now been extended by 0.01784.

Error noted. Mass effect use critical. Basic artificial intelligence detected. Advancement unacceptable. Cycle must end immediately. Will attempt direct manipulation of artificial intelligence. Will attempt direct reset of modeller. Will attempt direct manipulation of species 313. Sending waking signal to the Myriad. Sending march signal to the Myriad.

* * *

The March had not been performed for over 7035 cycles. Millions of red lights flared to life. A sea of black bodies, nearly invisible in the backdrop of intergalactic space, turned towards the Milky Way galaxy.

* * *

**_Codex Entry: Citadel and Mass Relays: Origin and Discovery_**

_Although the Citadel was first discovered hundreds of years ago by the Asari, and studied continuously up to the present, only superficial knowledge has been gleaned about its origins. It was discovered in a fully functional state, activating itself when the first Asari exploration team lead by Maiden Renissia first entered the structure. An automated VI function quickly scanned the entire team, and the VI network used their physical forms as a template for a holographic guide, now known as Avina. This welcoming function, combined with the lack of any visible damage, has lead historians and archaeologists to theorize that the creator race, dubbed "Protheans," were a highly benevolent race that seeded the galaxy with these massive structures, and simply moved on._

_Some theorize that the native race known as the Keepers were also the Protheans, but given their highly specialized role in the maintenance of the Citadel, they are much more likely to have been genetically engineered by the Protheans for that role. _


	2. Chapter 1: The Sole Survivor

**Author's Notes: **Not a single credit was made from this fanfic. For personal entertainment only.

- One thing i'd like to forewarn readers is that my Shepard will be based mostly on my playstyle. For a bit of background- i've never been a big fan of cover-based shooters. I'm an old-school FPS gamer, from the original Doom to Unreal Tournament to Team Fortress 2. I've always felt movement was the best way to survive a (video game) gunfight, and more importantly, taking away movement is taking away half the fun. So I played Vanguard. Charge and barge all the way.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Sole Survivor**

Riding in the M29A Grizzly was a cramped and bumpy affair. The Grizzly infantry carrier was designed on Earth, tested on Mars… but obviously the engineers didn't have Akuze in mind. "All Terrain" on Earth meant very little on this planet, but the colonists were eager to settle here anyway. Perhaps it was the bravado of conquering a relatively hostile planet, or maybe it was the glory of having their names being immortalized as the founders of the future flourishing Akuze colony they were envisioning. The pioneering colonists established a relatively well-protected colony along a stable, rocky mountain ridge with an intricate cave network and a good groundwater supply. Access to the landing site for supply ships required lightweight hoppers. None of them had to suffer the labourious affair of a forty-ton vehicle trying to clamber up the slope of the mountain they chose to settle on.

Then again, it was likely that they already suffered a fate much worse. The communications channel to the colony had been cut several days ago. Equipment malfunction was ruled out, as they should have had a backup; it had never been activated. Weather and mapping satellites indicated a clear atmosphere in the region. Something else was going on. Lieutenant Shepard thought it was slavers, raiders, or someone else of their ilk- and so did the brass. The numerous cave networks, mountains, valleys, and nigh-unnavigable terrain was a perfect place for outlaws to hide and set up shop. A full platoon of Alliance Navy might have been overkill for a simple colony investigation, but it might not have been enough if there were pirates using guerrilla tactics.

"Commander," Shepard turned to his superior officer. "The Redwind is still scanning, right? Has it found anything at all?"

Commander Burke shook his head. "They've increased the radius to 100km, and there's still nothing. If someone's there, they've got to be inside the caves. They did detect a little seismic activity and damage to the colony pods. Conclusion's pretty obvious, I think. The geologists were wrong, and the colony's suffered a pretty bad natural disaster. This is going to be a search-and-rescue mission."

Shepard nodded, mentally preparing himself. Sometimes, rescue missions were worse than assaults. At least in an assault, he was facing people that could be called "bad guys." People who generally did something wrong and had to be put down. With rescue missions, more often than not he was faced with the suffering of innocents, and in the worst case scenario, all his efforts would be futile to save them. Colony missions were usually one or the other. If it wasn't pirates raiding a hapless, fledgling colony, it was a natural disaster rendering the colonists helpless.

"We're getting out here," Burke announced. "Any further and the grizzlies will just get stuck. Delta team will secure this location. Alpha will head to the lower colony area, Bravo will approach from above." The teams exited from the tanks, preparing for a long march ahead.

Shepard took the lead for Bravo. As the vanguard of the group, his mass effect barriers could absorb far more damage than the standard, nanite-based kinetic barrier armour. Shepard in particular was more powerful than most other vanguards in the Alliance Navy. His father was a high ranking military officer who wanted to ensure his son grew up as a "real man"- to him, that meant knowing and learning about the latest and greatest (unclassified) gear and technology, assembling and disassembling real guns when other children his age were playing with toy guns. He suspected that, if it weren't against Alliance policy, his father would have offered him up as a test subject for the experimental biotic implant development. He'd already received the best civilian implants available at the youngest age possible, and combined with an asari tutor for ten years, it made him one of the best, if not THE best human biotic in the military. While he was by no means a genius or savant, having spent more time under the effects of eezo than professional biotics twice his age made his understanding and manipulation of biotic fields second only to the asari.

Shepard kept his barriers up and a pair of SMGs in his hands. Some others would have only activated them upon seeing an enemy, but his father had told him horror stories of failed raids and ambushes, deaths due to the half-second it took to activate a kinetic barrier or unfold a weapon. As bedtime stories. In these tales, the napping hare didn't just lose a race, it was skinned and cooked for dinner. Besides, he was a vanguard. In any ambush or assault, he was _supposed_ to take the brunt of the initial attack, and lay down a hail of covering fire while the rest of the team could get to a better position.

Unfortunately, the attack didn't come from in front of them. In fact, Alpha and Bravo teams weren't hit at all. The unthinkable happened instead. Only a fool would have assaulted Delta team first, with their three armoured vehicles, each outfitted with 155mm cannons, in a highly defensible position with good sight lines. And only a monster could have been successful. The only warning was a slight tremor in the ground, just before screams came over their comms. Cannon fire sounded off in the distance, followed by the sound of screeching metal. Delta team didn't respond to hails over the comm.

"We have to secure our escape route. Find out what happened. Everyone, return to the grizzlies, double time!"

They arrived to only bits and pieces of wreckage. It wasn't a bomb or an explosion. There would be far more debris in the area. Something had _shredded_ through ten centimetres of AN3 armour, the type of armour that could easily withstand anti-tank rounds and repair itself afterwards. Anything less than a compact nuke wouldn't have made more than a dent. They would have seen the mushroom cloud of a blast like that.

"What in the hell? Sterling, see if you can get any readings," Burke ordered the team's resident engineer over to the wreckage, while the others fanned out in an attempt to form a perimeter. Shepard surveyed the area. To the east was nothing but a sea of sand, which they had avoided on their approach. The grizzlies weren't made for such soft terrain. The colony was in the mountains the north, where they had just come from- obviously no enemies there. The mountains wrapped around the landscape all the way to the west side- wide, jagged terrain that could perhaps hide a few people on foot, but not the kind of heavy mech that would be needed to mangle the grizzlies into the mess of metal in front of them. The southern route was the flatter, packed rock where they approached from. Nobody was reading anything on their scanners. "Redwind reports no activity in the skies, either," Burke updated the team. "Wherever they are, they're on the ground."

Shepard knew that couldn't be right. He, and the rest of the team, could see everything on the ground, and the Redwind was covering everything in the air, and everything in orbit up to the third moon was easily within active sensor range. That didn't leave anything but… underground. But that was impossible. Unless…

"Uh… sir… you're not going to believe this," Sterling said, staring at his omni-tool.

"I'll decide what I'll believe. Tell me what you found," Burke replied.

"Only minor acid degredation. No thermal weaponry, no plasma, no mass effect warping. The grizzlies were sheared apart by brute physical force."

Brute force that could tear apart tanks? Popping out like the boogeyman and disappearing without a trace? It sounded like a childish horror story, but Shepard knew better. He grew up on starships. He grew up with, well, his _father, _who told stories like this all the time. He knew the difference between an old wives' tale and _real_ horror. He heard tall tales in the mess halls. He heard real horror stories in the med bays. This particular story he'd heard just before becoming a teenager, and here he was, nearly twenty years later, living it himself. "THRESHER MAW!" he yelled out. "Everybody, up the mountain! Get on to solid rock!"

"What are you on about, Lieutenant?" Commander Burke barked at him. "We need to secure the area and search for wounded, not…" He was cut short by a distinctive rumbling beneath his feet. All the other soldiers looked uneasy.

No matter what stories they'd heard, whatever training they had, nothing could prepare a person for a five-metre-wide set of jaws bursting out of the ground, rising thirty meters high. Half of Bravo team was swallowed in one gulp. Commander Burke wasn't prepared to issue an order in this situation. The rest of the team wasn't prepared to follow them, if he had. Some stood, frozen in shock and awe, while a few others managed to find their trigger fingers and start shooting. Shepard's mind was frozen, but his body ran on instincts. A decade of hard training forcibly supplanted his natural urge to run in the face of danger, even in the face of impossible odds. Vanguards charge in.

Routing all his barrier power in front of him, he ran towards the towering beast, firing everything he had at what looked like soft spots, hoping to get its attention. It was a futile effort, the SMGs barely scratching the thick, chitinous armour of the beast. He slapped the SMGs back onto their magnetic holsters, pulling out his heavy shotgun and throwing up a biotic warp. The rapidly fluctuating field altered the density of the target hundreds of times a second in an effort to degrade and soften hard armour targets. One point three seconds. The shotgun was unfolded and ready to fire.

White hot lead shrapnel struck the thresher maw's plating. He'd managed to crack it slightly. Time to do it all over again. Four seconds until the power supply in his armour could fully charge his biotic amp capacitors. Three… Two…

The thresher maw shifted, spitting a ball of digestive goo at the largest piece of wreckage, where five of his teammates were taking cover. Their screams were painful. Their deaths were not heroic. Shepard could hear the sizzling as the grizzly's armour was being eaten away by the digestive juices. He could only imagine what it was doing to the personnel armour.

Zero. Shepard threw another warp at the same spot, hoping to break through to the soft tissue. At the same instant, the giant worm dove down to where it just spat, consuming the last chunk of metal. His target spot was suddenly fifty meters away. As the beast snaked its way back underground, it gave the survivors a glimpse of its true size. It must have been at least two hundred meters long. The little scratch Shepard put in it must have been as annoying as a mosquito bite.

Where was the rest of the team? _Not on the mountain _was the first thing he realized. Only eight marines were left, the remainder of Alpha team. They were grouped together, making a run for the colony pods. Shepard clambered up to a safer height on the rocky cliffs, yelling into the comms, "Get up here! It can't chew through solid rock!" _At least, not as quickly,_ he hoped.

A few of them saw him waving, and dutifully changed course. Unfortunately, the thresher maw took that moment to burst out of the ground, narrowly missing the group. Had they continued forward, they would have disappeared into the maw's gullet. They were still far from safety, though, and Shepard's instincts kicked in. When allies were in danger, vanguards charge in.

Except the fact that he was standing high on a cliff- a hundred meters away and twenty up - was holding him back. There was no quick route to the thresher maw, no way to distract it from his squadmates. He had to get there. He didn't have time to think about it. In the back of his mind, the memory of his first mass relay jump bubbled up. He'd been invited onto the bridge by his mother, and he could _see_ the stars change in an instant. He remembered the feeling of his second mass relay jump, inside the engineering core. Even without windows or star charts, he _knew _he was very far away after one second. He remembered his first mass relay jump after receiving his biotic implants. He could _feel_ the mass effect fields warp the mass of the ship and space itself. The feeling was wonderful. It was powerful. It was why he spent so much time on the engineering deck as a child.

Only an idiot would believe it was possible to attempt a mass relay jump with little more than implants and a dozen amplifiers built into a suit of armour. Only a fool would actually attempt it without theorizing, experimenting, practicing, and developing the idea. Only an madman would use such a technique to get _closer_ to a thresher maw. Only Shepard could pull it off. When allies were in danger, vanguards charge in. Shepard _charged._

He weighed in at one hundred and fifty kilos, fully suited in armour. He suddenly weighed nothing. He was standing at the top of a cliff, a hundred meters away and twenty meters up, watching his teammates in front of him struggle to climb up the steep slope. His teammates were suddenly behind him, and the thresher maw took up his entire field of view. He now weighed in at nine thousand kilos, bleeding off the excess momentum simply by crashing into the half-buried beast. The biotic amps shorted out. He weighed one hundred and fifty kilos again. He was standing right beside the thresher maw. And he had finally caught its attention.

The force of a nine-ton human impacting the maw finally managed to make a dent in its armor. Shepard held the trigger down on his shotgun until it overheated. The swapping mechanism built into the forearm immediately replaced the thermal clip with a freshly cooled one. Lucky for him, thresher maws weren't that flexible. Very few things ever managed to get as close as Shepard did, and he was pounding away as much as he could with his shotgun while the maw could do nothing. Another thermal clip exchanged. And another. And another. Until his suit couldn't keep up with the cooling and started swapping in hot clips into his gun.

Shepard realized he was taxing his suit of armour to its power limits. He had to retreat for a minute until all the clips cooled off again. He'd never encountered this before- technically, he had let loose enough firepower to kill a full platoon of soldiers. And it was just barely enough to annoy and distract the beast. Well, his job wasn't to kill the thing- just allow his team to get to safety. In that respect, he'd been entirely successful. The team was standing on solid rock, higher up. He made a sprint for it back to his team. Half of his biotic amps were shot. He could barely remember how he managed to perform the charge manoeuvre. It didn't matter. The maw was retreating underground, and this was his chance to get to safety and return to his squad.

"What the hell was that, Shepard?" McKinley, second in command, asked as he caught up. They'd slowed down only slightly to let Shepard join them. As soon as Shepard caught up, they raised the pace again to the limits of their exosuits.

"I don't know. It felt right at the time. I'll figure it out once we get back to the ship," Shepard replied.

"Whatever it was, it saved our asses. Thanks, Shepard." The other marines mumbled in agreement, still in shock at the attack and the losses.

Shepard did a quick headcount. "Weren't there eight of you?"

"Jones, Armen and Toole didn't make it up here," McKinley answered. Pre-emptively, he added, "Don't beat yourself up about it. You did more to save our asses than any of us could have to our own."

No time for mourning. Probably no bodies left to mourn, either. Their dogtags were probably melted away too, just like the grizzly's armour plating. Survival was the primary objective now. "I guess Commander Burke didn't make it either?"

"He was one of the men taking cover behind the melted chunk of grizzly."

"So what now?"

"I've lost my connection to the Redwind. I don't suppose you could get one either?" Shepard shook his head when static came through his earpiece. "We figured we could activate one of the comm antennas at the colony. Safest place for a Kodiak shuttle to land is on the roof of the colony pods anyway. Anything lower and that damn maw would probably grab it out of the air. Probably a good dessert after eating three goddamn tanks."

"I always thought those were just stories made up by the turians to fuck with us," Tillman said. "Giant underground worms that eat tanks and can swim through dirt like an eel. What part of that makes any sense at all?"

"Space is a weird place," was the reply he got from Corporal Toombs.

"Yeah? I thought Australia had some weird shit going on there. Did my survival training in the outback. Sure didn't prepare me for this," Tillman responded.

"Well, this must be Space Australia."

* * *

Half an hour of marching, and no ominous rumbling beneath their feet - it looked like they were in the clear, and the colony pods were just ahead. It was eerily silent, seeing all these new homes that had just been settled in but were completely empty. "Split up and look for the communications hub," McKinley ordered. They fanned out, each searching a pod on their own.

Shepard found a supply pod, mostly with food stockpiles and a little medigel. He activated one, feeding it into his armour, which distributed it across his bruised body. He immediately felt better, and grabbed several more packets for the other marines. Over the radio, he heard some comm chatter. Someone had found the comm hub already. He was about to rejoin the group when a small movement distracted him.

Something fell on the other side of the room- a food canister. Shepard pulled out his shotgun and set his barriers to full. "Hold on, guys. I think I found something," he whispered over the radio. Paranoia, maybe. Probably just a scared colonist hiding in the corner. "Come on out. I'm an alliance marine. We're the rescue party."

What popped out wasn't even human. For eyes, flat-faced, and lightly armoured. Batarian raider. They opened fire first. Thankfully, they were using an older tech assault rifle, with the integrated cooling system. Good for raiders, and even some civilians, who usually only had one gun and no exosuit powered armour. The upside was low maintenance and nearly unlimited ammo- a cheap lead brick that needed replacing once every few years or so. It also meant a much lower maximum output- more than enough for civilians hunting a few wild varren, or raiders assaulting unarmed civilians. Not nearly enough to take down an armoured, shielded marine.

Two shots from Shepard's shotgun tore through the batarian's shields and armor, leaving the raider gasping in a puddle of his yellow-green blood. The batarian wouldn't be telling him anything. The heatclip-based weapons were designed for high damage output in a very short time- in fact, one shot probably would have been overkill already. Shepard's barriers hadn't even been depleted- they regenerated within a few seconds.

_Raiders AND a thresher maw? _Shepard couldn't believe their bad luck. Then again, it could have been read as poor foresight instead._ Of course the thresher maw couldn't have taken out all the colonists. The pods are still intact. It would have feasted on them,_ Shepard reminded himself. The team had been far too focused on their recent tragedy to account for the fact that something else could have been there. And that something was a group of batarian raiders.

"Everyone, on guard and regroup! Batarian raiders in the colony pods!" Shepard shouted.

"…under fire!" came a crackling, unclear response. He couldn't tell who it was. An explosion shook the supply pod he was in. Racing outside, he saw a thick plume of smoke coming from the neighbouring pod. Must have been the fuel storage station. Three dead batarians lay on the ground- along with one dead marine. One of them must have been stupid enough to open fire in there. The charring of the bodies told Shepard there wasn't anything he could do for them.

Out of another pod came McKinley, firing his assault rifle into the pod with one hand and dragging Tillman out with him as he backed out. He looked unsteady on his feet- Shepard raced over and helped support him with extra covering fire and extraction. He noticed McKinley was forcing himself to hyperventilate.

"Nitrogen trap," he coughed out. "Damn stupid biology." Shepard nodded, having seen this happen by accident on starships before. Humans needed oxygen or they passed out. Simple enough. The human urge to breathe, or sense of asphyxiation, was based not on low oxygen levels, but high carbon dioxide levels. As long as a human was getting rid of his carbon dioxide, he wouldn't realize he wasn't breathing in oxygen. Turians, thankfully, didn't figure out this flaw until after the end of the First Contact War, but pirates and slavers were happy to pounce on it. "We have to get back in there. That's the comm relay," he said.

"I'll flush them out," Shepard said, activating his armour's internal oxygen supply. It wasn't a true spacesuit, and only had several minutes' supply, unfortunately. That just meant he had to work fast. The second the door opened, he pulled the trigger. Boom, one raider dead. He rounded the corner- two booms from his shotgun, and another raider down. Heat clip swapped. One raider tried to hide behind a couch, of all things. Boom, the shotgun tore through the lightweight plastic frame as if it weren't even there, and a splatter of yellow decorated the wall behind it. The last one had figured out that the comm relay was important, and placed it between himself and Shepard.

He couldn't risk destroying his only means of contacting help, and the shotgun was a little too destructive. His fists- or, more specifically, the biotic implants in his hands, were much more suitable. He ran towards the raider. He shrugged off the first burst of gunfire, letting the barriers do their work. A concentrated warp effect in front of his knuckles ripped through the shields. His fist suddenly weighed two hundred kilos when it connected. The batarian went flying into the back wall.

After one more sweep to ensure the room was clear, Shepard located the two other marines in the room, and tried to activate their suits' oxygen supplies. It was too late- they'd been without oxygen for too long, and suffered brain death already. All he could do was log into the pod's environmental controls and open all the doors before his own suit's oxygen supply gave out. He threw out the nitrogen canisters that were displacing the normal atmosphere in the room, and walked back outside.

McKinley wasn't responding. He and Tillman were dead. Sniper shots, straight to the head. Given the angle of the blood splatter on both of them, the sniper was obviously up on the cliffs to the west. He caught a glimpse of the sniper's movement, trying to hide behind rocks. Tillman hadn't even gotten up- the sniper had put a bullet into the head of an unconscious man on the ground. Honour was the last thing to expect on a battlefield- but the lack of it still angered Shepard nonetheless.

Now the sniper had spotted him- and he was the last one. The short-range SMG and shotgun versus a sniper rifle with two hundred meters between them. Grabbing McKinley's assault rifle would mean running out into the open- and if it had even a half-decent auto-targeting system, one round would find itself buried inside his helmet. He needed to close the distance. He wondered if he could do it again, with half his biotic amps were shorted out. No time to wonder. There really weren't any other options. Capacitors were at full. He was a vanguard without allies left to protect. Shepard _charged._

* * *

**_Codex Entry: Thermal Clip Systems_**

_The micro-scale mass accelerators on small arms were considered a perfected technology several hundred years ago, and little was done to increase their output until the Krogan Rebellions. While a small, integrated heatsink formed a compact, self-sufficient weapon that could last for years with minimal maintenance, massive increases in damage output were required to kill an armoured krogan._

_A krogan soldier's combination of naturally redundant nervous and circulatory systems, an exceptionally rapid cellular regeneration rate, the ability to wear heavier armour and larger shield generators, proved that it was possible for krogan infantry to regenerate shields and heal minor wounds faster than a standard assault rifle could injure them under sustained, continuous fire. The only solution was a massive increase in damage output, with a corresponding increase in heat output._

_Most soldiers in the armies of Citadel species tend to carry multiple weapons to handle a variety of situations. Correspondingly large heatsinks on each of them proved to be too much of a weight burden for each soldier. The Turian weapons development agency developed the Thermal Clip system, which utilizes a common heatsink cooling system integrated into a powered armour pack, with a shared, compact, universal heatsink that can be used by all military weapons._

_The high damage output of thermal-clip based weapons was deemed illegal for civilian licenses, and the need for an armour-integrated cooling pack was too expensive and complex for most civilians. Integrated venting remains the system of choice for hobbyists and sport hunters._

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- my explanation for why Shepard is the one who _invented_ the Vanguard biotic charge: we don't see it from any other character in the entire universe except one (excluding the multiplayer component of ME3). That one character being an asari spectre means she's a pretty damn talented biotic as it is, and could have easily learned it by reading reports on Shepard.

- Basic plothole of the game: yes, heatclips were invented so that players could have ammo in ME2. I have no problem with that. The problem is that somehow, within two years, one new technology is invented and everyone, from the most powerful militaries in the galaxy to the poorest gangsters on Omega to _aliens living at the center of the galaxy controlled by reapers_ are using them. Not a huge change, but i just pushed their invention ahead a few hundred years, plus explain why any military would favour a limited-ammo system over an unlimited-ammo one.


	3. Chapter 2: Five Years Later

**Author's Notes:**

- The 2012 Olympics are upon us, and a very sci-fi question has been brought up. Should an amputee be allowed to compete in the regular olympics, if his prosthetic legs can perform even better than normal human legs? I find this an interesting subject, but it's also interesting to note that nobody in the ME universe uses prosthetics. Yes, Mass Effect isn't anything like Ghost in the Shell, but I'd expect at least the salarians to be really into it. Small, weak bodies + culture based around tech and science.

- back to Mass Effect: I always thought the prologue mission on Eden Prime to be a little too simple for a Spectre evaluation. Especially since they didn't know about the geth, Saren, or Sovereign at the time.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Five Years Later**

"Shepard's one of the best to graduate from the N7 program, not to mention the fastest," Captain Anderson remarked. "And believe me, the program hasn't gotten any easier since my time." As the first N7 officer of the special forces program, David Anderson's words carried a lot of weight.

"Is that what you find impressive? A Spectre has to be more than just a soldier, Captain." The human ambassador to the council flicked through the long list of candidates on his holopad. "Spectres represent the might of the Citadel Council. And the first human Spectre has to represent the best of humanity if we're ever going to have a chance at getting a seat on that council."

Anderson took a deep breath and gazed out the port of the spacedock, noting the perfect view of Earth's curvature. Politics. Always politics, wherever he went. He looked down at the cloud-covered continents below. He could barely make out the cities. Couldn't tell where one country ended and another began. Humanity had discovered the Mass Effect, travelled faster than light, met with alien races, colonized dozens of worlds all within the past hundred years. When the Grissom team first travelled through the mass relay circling Pluto, humanity cheered for him. They were supposed to be leading the way to exploration and wonder, not more politics and bureaucracy. Anderson let out his breath with a sigh. The more things change…

"Shepard _is_ a leader. People look to him for his bravery, skill, and boldness. Aiming for a seat on the council is one hell of a bold move, Udina. That's why we _need_ Shepard. We need someone bold and unafraid of declaring to the rest of the galaxy that humanity is here, and here to stay. Not some damn bureaucrat who's going to suck up to the council."

"The hero of Akuze is really your choice then? Most people don't walk away from those kinds of 'heroics' without some post-traumatic stress disorders," Udina pointed out.

"Shepard's not most people," Anderson countered. "Hell, he invented an entirely new biotic technique in a desperate situation that even the asari are trying to replicate. Salarians and asari both have heard of Shepard for that feat alone. You can't say that about any other human candidate."

"Alright. You've made your case. But you make sure he knows that he only has one chance to impress the council," Udina warned. "We don't want another… misstep setting back our chances another fifteen years."

Anderson shook Udina's hand gratefully, hiding his anger. The two of them had an adversarial relationship as long as they could remember. They always had to play nice, but Anderson couldn't ever respect a man like that. He knew the only reason Udina really opposed nominating Shepard was because the commander was undoubtedly more loyal to his captain than the ambassador. He wouldn't be a pawn, and Udina didn't like that.

He was glad when the door closed behind Udina, finally ridding the man from his presence. He turned around, away from the view of Earth and towards the ship being constructed in the spacedock. The final touches were being applied, and by tomorrow it would be spaceworthy, ready for its first shakedown run.

The Normandy. It was the first major military collaboration between humans and turians, representing an important stepping stone for human-turian relations since the First Contact War. And it wasn't just a ship- it was one of the most advanced ships in the galaxy. Certainly not the largest or most powerful, but the most advanced. Humans, the newcomers to the galactic scene, now had one of the most technologically advanced ships in the galaxy. It was the only one with a fully functional, field-tested thermal cloaking system- the first stealth ship. And he had the honour of being its captain.

* * *

The interior of the ship was just as impressive. It was amazingly roomy for a military vessel- almost comparable to a private yacht, in that sense. From the command position, Anderson could look straight down the length of the ship, all the way to the cockpit, and see every officer working at their station along the way. Despite being crewed by humans, the turians were the ones who dictated the design. Higher ceilings and more open space were the result- and, of course, the captain's ability to keep a watchful eye on the entire crew.

Of course, the man of the hour had to approach him from behind. "Reporting for duty, Captain." Commander Shepard saluted, almost catching Anderson off-guard.

"At ease, Commander. Have you familiarized yourself with the crew yet? I'd suggest starting from the front," he said, pointing at the cockpit. "Our pilot is… quite the character. Recommended by Admiral Hackett himself."

Shepard walked to the front of the ship, noting the open layout and multifunctional design. All the way along the corridor were operator bays, and every single one of them used a holographic VI interface- completely re-configurable. They could switch from having ten people on scanners and navigation to ten at battle stations managing weapons and shielding, and nobody would have to get out of their seat. This kind of design certainly didn't come cheap. It could explain why the first mission of this ship was to investigate a colony whose entire GDP was worth less than this ship by itself. They wouldn't risk anything dangerous while putting it through its paces.

When he reached the cockpit, they'd nearly reached the mass relay. He could see it out the windows- and he wasn't the only non-pilot there. Nihlus, a turian Spectre, was watching the pilot carefully as they approached.

"Vectors aligned. Preparing to jump in 3… 2… 1…" the pilot was saying. Right on cue, a powerful bolt of energy from the mass relay surrounded the ship, and the stars blurred. Their positions changed completely, and the blue hue of the mass effect field receded just as quickly as it had appeared. The pilot continued nonchalantly, "Welcome to Exodus Cluster. We'll be at Eden Prime in two hours."

"Good work," Nihlus said. "Commander. I'll see you in the briefing room in fifteen."

As soon as he was out of earshot, the pilot threw his hands up in the air. "Good work? I can't believe he just said that."

"That's one way to take a compliment," Shepard said. The pilot nearly jumped out of his seat as he turned to face the commander.

"I… uh… welcome aboard, commander! Lieutenant Jeff Bridges, but you can call me Joker." He nearly forgot to salute, holding the pose stiffly without getting out of his seat.

"At ease," Shepard told him. "So, Joker, you were saying? Nihlus was complimenting you. Why take it so badly?"

"Because it's patronizing! A damn VI could take us through a relay. No, he doesn't say anything about real piloting skills. Did you not notice our exit from spacedock? Our entire exit from one of the galaxy's dirtiest geosync zones without a scratch on the paint? Our trip from Earth to Charon was smoother than a baby asari's ass?" Joker caught himself mid-rant, attempting to salvage it by adding a little bit of formality. "…sir?"

The commander stared at him blankly for a few moments, seeing if Joker would crack under his glare. He didn't, but was still clearly nervous about how the Hero of Akuze would react. Shepard let out a chuckle. "Baby asari's ass. I'll have to remember that one. You know that a baby asari is still probably going to be older than you…"

Joker let out the breath that he was holding and managed to laugh with the Commander. "Hey, you know the one about asari teenagers? You grow old…"

"And they stay the same age. I hope your atmospheric piloting isn't as bad as your jokes. I'll take one of those buttery smooth drops, if they're as good as you say."

"Atmospheric? Piece of cake. Hell, I could let your marines stroll out the cargo ramp if the captain would let me drop that low." Shepard wondered if Joker really could hover a 7,000 ton spaceship a metre off the ground, in atmospheric conditions. Some professional stunt pilots probably could, but few ever had this kind of ship to practice with. He didn't want to find out how much a screw-up would cost. He left Joker on the bridge and made his way to the briefing room, where the official mission would begin.

* * *

Eden Prime was one of the first garden worlds- and it was truly a garden in every sense of the word. It had plenty of water, fertile land and vegetation that covered over 80% of its landmasses. The original human colonists decided to make it their mandate to keep it that way- choosing to build an arcology capable of housing the entire population of over 3 million residents in a single superstructure, while leaving as much of the land as farmland as possible. Their main export was food, and little else- which was why it would be extremely strange for such a colony to come under attack.

"I was hoping to find you here early," Nihlus said as Shepard walked in. "Maybe we could have a little talk."

"What about?" Shepard responded.

"Eden Prime. I've seen your... tourist advertisements for the location. Idyllic. Peaceful. Retirement home kind of colony. Do you honestly believe that?" Shepard stayed silent, giving Nihlus a questioning look. "It's bordering on the Terminus systems. It's about time a human colony got hit."

"Are you saying you _wanted_ an attack to happen?" Shepard boldly stepped forward, looking up and trying to ignore the fact that the Spectre's scaly mandibles were right at his eye level.

"Oh no, not at all. It's just that you humans are a little too confident. Probably because you still haven't seen the real horrors this galaxy has to offer. You were lucky that your first contact was with us instead of with the Batarian Hegemony. A little more caution and a lot more humility would do your species good."

Shepard didn't know what to say to that. True enough, although humanity was quick to join the Citadel races and accepted the treaties that came with it, nothing could change the fact that prior to first contact with the turians, humanity had already expanded across a dozen systems, all outside of Citadel-controlled space. Humans were now the easiest target for the outlaws of the galaxy. At the same time, it was because of this boldness that propelled the human species to its place in the Citadel, leapfrogging over the volus, hanar, elcor, and batarians in terms of population, planets, and resources. Those races had been part of the Citadel centuries before humans, but it was the humans who were the closest to earning a council seat.

"It would certainly be safer," Shepard agreed. "But sometimes, safety is overrated. If you're too afraid to take some bold steps, then you're shutting yourself away from some of the greatest rewards as well."

Nihlus was considering his response when Anderson walked in. "I think it's about time for us to tell the commander the true nature of this mission." Nihlus flared his mandibles out wide, the turian equivalent of nodding. The captain inserted an encrypted data key into the displays. "This is far more than a simple shakedown run."

"Well, that was obvious," Shepard responded. Anderson turned and raised an eyebrow. "Well, a turian Spectre is a little much for a ship like this, isn't it? Someone who's part of the turian military is a much better fit for a ship evaluation." Seeing that he caught Nihlus's attention, he continued. "And if this was a true attack on the colony, one little stealth frigate is insufficient for evacuation or defense… and too specialized, wouldn't you say?"

He directed his next question at Nihlus. "This is as much a shakedown run for me as it is for the Normandy, isn't it? So what's the mission?"

Nihlus said nothing, letting Anderson explain. "Seventy-eight hours ago, archaeologists on Eden Prime sent an encrypted message to Alliance Command. They'd found a Prothean device- very likely a data storage device." Prothean artifacts were valuable enough. Prothean data… well, anyone who wanted to know how to build the mass relays network and the citadel would want their hands on it. In short, everyone.

"Sixty hours ago, we determined the message had been intercepted," Anderson continued. "We gave an immediate order to evacuate to a bunker and move the device as well, if possible. We received no confirmation whether or not they received this message or not."

"Twelve hours ago, contact with the entire Eden Prime colony was lost," Nihlus broke in. "Our mission is as follows: Determine the threat against Eden Prime, recover the Prothean artifacts, and secure the archaeologists."

"And the rest of the colony?" Shepard asked.

"That depends on how big the threat is, and we can call in the fleet for that. We should be getting long-range readings on the planet about now," Anderson said, bringing up a map of Eden Prime. "One large ship in orbit along with several smaller ones. Probably a heavy cruiser and a fighter complement. We won't be fighting them head-on." Tapping a comm panel, he told Joker, "Engage stealth systems. Passive sensor data only."

"You got it, captain," came the reply on the speaker.

"Stealth entry means stealth insertion. If that cruiser doesn't leave soon, you'll have to wait it out on the surface for a day or two until our own fleet gets here to secure the region." Shepard nodded. That was pretty easy- standard fare for soldiers invited into the N1 training level.

"That also means a LORELI drop. How many of your men are capable of it?" The Low orbit re-entry/lone insertion drop was one of the riskiest manoeuvres in the military- some people summed it up as "lie down inside of a coffin and pray you don't get buried in it." First, it involved entering an aerodynamic heatshield that was so snug that shrugging your shoulders was the largest movement possible inside it. Then they were dropped, from low orbit and matching the surface velocity, falling at maximum velocity until they were less than 1km above ground level. Mass effect fields were then used to slow down the descent- no parachutes or rockets, as those would be too visible. Landings were hard- the heatshields often spiked themselves halfway into soft ground. Sometimes it was a complete burial if the soldier's mass effect field wasn't good enough. Sufficed to say, most marines on board weren't qualified- those who could were generally in N3 or higher.

"I can think of two off the top of my head. We need to keep the team small anyway, if this is going to be a stealth mission," Shepard answered.

* * *

Kaiden Alenko and Richard Jenkins landed about two kilometers away from Shepard, who gave them the order to regroup immediately. It would take them about six or seven minutes on foot. Nihlus landed elsewhere, only stating, "I work faster alone." He maintained radio silence after that.

Kaiden was classified as a sentinel- which meant he used a combination of biotic and tech systems to establish a heavy defensive barrier. Although sentinels were generally best at defending stationary targets, Kaiden was flexible enough to carry out an infiltration mission. He'd worked with Shepard on several tours already, and they knew each others' strengths well.

Jenkins was new to Shepard, but his file indicated he was an exceptional soldier who always volunteered for more. He'd apparently been inspired by Shepard's feat on Akuze- and although he had no talent for biotics, he had demonstrated the ability to stay cool and collected even when greatly outnumbered. He had yet to specialize in anything, but his proficiency in weapons and lack of biotics made him a shoe-in as an infiltrator.

Along the way, Shepard noticed an enormous black structure far off in the distance. Was the arcology really that big? He vaguely remembered tourist advertisements, and he was almost certain it was a combination of green and white to blend into the landscape. Perhaps he was looking at the back side, which gathered energy via solar panels. It wouldn't be the most photogenic angle, which meant it wouldn't have made the final cuts. Closing communications with the Normandy was necessary for a stealth mission, unfortunately. No time for an Extranet search.

"Any trouble getting here?" Shepard asked the other two when they regrouped. He'd passed by a burning farmhouse- no survivors, but no enemies either. Kaiden shook his head.

"None. I saw a lot of synthetics. Probably drones," Richard reported. "Wasn't too hard to evade." He explained where he'd seen them, and the direction they'd been heading. As far as they could tell, they were making a beeline from the dig site to the spaceport. They chose to ignore the dig site- any of the archaeologists who hadn't made it to a bunker were likely dead or captured, with this many enemy troops on the ground. And if they were heading for the spaceport, it probably meant they'd captured the artifact and were preparing to leave.

In ten minutes, a rapid run through the grassy plains brought them to the crest of a hill over an Alliance outpost. Shepard searched the interior for survivors, while Kaidan worked on the computer archives in an attempt to find out more about the attack. Richard stayed outside, continuing to scout ahead. The hill conveniently overlooked the starport, so he concentrated on getting more exact numbers and composition of the enemy forces.

It had been a slaughter. There were corpses of Alliance soldiers, several of them out of uniform in the bunks. They weren't prepared for this in the least. There were no bodies of the enemy- either none of them fell in the fight, or they were carried away by their comrades. One thing was curious, though- there was a hole in the ceiling of the mess hall and a small crater on the floor, which must have blasted everything in the room. It looked like an artillery shell had punched straight through, with the exception of plasma-burnt holes in the walls and the corpses in there, which matched the weapon used to kill the soldiers in the rest of the base. With that in mind, it was more like someone else had managed to perform a LORELI drop straight into the center of a military base and killed everyone immediately with a plasma rifle.

"Commander… I think you should see this," Kaiden radioed him. When Shepard reached the data room, Kaiden was frozen at the monitor. "I knew something was… off." What he was staring at in the monitor was impossible. It was the arcology he spied during the drop, the superstructure designed to house five million people inside, well over four kilometers in length and half a kilometer high… and it was _flying_. It took him a few moments to realize that wasn't the arcology. This was an _enemy vessel_. It was easily triple the length of any other vessel built by the Alliance, and that was merely a big cargo carrier. The video showed this thing landing on the surface of a planet. The sheer amount of engineering to make that possible was beyond the capabilities of the Alliance… nay, all the Citadel species combined.

And that wasn't the only thing it showed. As the beastly machine descended from the skies, it was _raining_ troops. Thousands were streaming out of its hull, and every single one of them was performing the equivalent of a LORELI drop. And that was when the video cut out- probably the one that landed on the base itself.

"We can't fight this directly. We confirm the location of the beacon, and continue scouting. We'll need the fleet to take care of this one." He had to radio their scout to know how the situation looked presently. "Jenkins, how's it looking out there? You know that superstructure beside the spaceport? That's a goddamn _ship_."

"_WHAT?_ Did I hear you correctly, Commander? I thought you just said that giant building is a ship."

"You heard correctly, Lieutenant."

He was met with a brief silence. "I'll… uh… try to figure that out later, sir. I guess that's where Nihlus will be heading. He's already reached the spaceport."

_He certainly wasn't lying when he said he was fast_, Shepard thought. "What about the enemy? Is he in danger?"

"They were way ahead of us," Richard reported. "They move like machines… well, I guess, they _are_ machines. Wait a second. There's another turian there. They're talking."

"Another turian? Civilian?"

"No, military. Well-armed and wearing armour. Wait, that's not the turian military uniform. That's a council insignia. He's… another Spectre."

"We've got another Spectre on the job? What, does the Council want to pull a fast one on the Alliance?" Kaiden asked, irritated. Shepard didn't answer.

"Well, at least they know each oth- _oh CRAP!_ That Spectre just shot Nihlus! Back of the head! He didn't see it coming!"

"Jenkins, get that visor cam recording! I want to know who that Spectre is! We're moving, ASAP!"

Shepard rushed outside just in time to see a shimmer in the air. Richard Jenkins screamed as he was shot from only a meter away, penetrating into his back and through his armour. Fifty plasma bolts burnt their way into his body in under a second- there was no way to save him. The air shimmered again. _Optical cloaking tech_, Shepard realized. The Alliance had been working on this one- it was ready for deployment within a few years, but this version was even better than the controlled demonstrations he'd observed. He saw that slight shimmer again- the only flaw in an otherwise perfect camouflage system. It was coming for him and Kaiden. There was only one thing to do.

_Charge_. He missed, partially. He couldn't knock the thing down, but he'd managed to smash a limb off. That threw it off balance, as well as the cloaking system. It was now shooting sparks from its left side, and the cloak was flashing random colours. With a shotgun ready in hand, Shepard aimed for the center and pulled the trigger.

The blast destroyed the remainders of its shields, allowing Kaiden to shoot a nanite storm at it. The nanites worked quickly, immediately shorting out its motor functions and rendering it helpless. A second shotgun blast from Shepard blew apart its physical armour, rendering the cloaking system completely inert. They could finally see what they were fighting. It was odd- long, flexible limbs, kind of like an octopus. Two of the limbs had weapons built into them- the plasma weapon being one of them. It seemed to be specialized for hunting and assassination- a very mobile and versatile body for crossing any terrain and a cloaking system. Shepard readied a third shot at the exposed electronics, but Kaiden stopped him.

"Wait! I've almost broken through its memory banks… almost there… got it," Kaiden said. "It had a self-destruct charge, but I managed to disable it. I think it was trying to purge its own memory as well… probably a security feature. I'm not sure if I managed to freeze it properly- never seen anything like it." Looking up, he added, "What about Jenkins?"

Shepard shook his head. "He didn't make it. We'll have to flag his corpse for retrieval. As for this… I've never seen anything like it. We'll have to take this back for analysis when we come back for Jenkins."

* * *

They continued at a faster pace towards the spaceport. Halfway there, they saw a firefight occurring. A magnified image on his visor showed him humanoid troops engaged in combat against more robots. They were completely unlike the spider-like assassin that had killed Jenkins, but clearly of similar design philosophy. Several flyers had them pinned down while several other quadruped bots guarded a heavy crawler. The crawler was carrying a large device- tall as a flagpole, with green circuit-like etchings on the surface that glowed. It emitted what looked like a biotic field around it, but instead of the traditional blue hue, it was green. There was no doubt that it was the Prothean artifact they were looking for.

"Who the hell are they? They're too well trained and equipped to be militia," Kaiden asked.

"I don't know, but the enemy of my enemy…" Shepard said. There was still ten minutes' worth of ground to cover. He could only hope the troops could hold out that long.

A rocket blast lit up the area with a plume of smoke. The troops had managed to disable the crawler. It could be considered a minor victory- at least the artifact would be stuck on Eden Prime.

Suddenly, a low, rumbling _noise_ echoed through his head. It sounded like a cross between a lion's roar, a foghorn, and someone trying to rip out his eardrums. _What the hell was that?_ Shepard knew his suit automatically cancelled out sounds that would be harmfully loud- this gave him a debilitating headache within seconds. He noticed Kaiden was kneeling over, disoriented just as much as he was. Then again, perhaps it wasn't a sound at all- sound pressure of that volume would have been felt by his entire body. This was just… in his head.

"Look… it's…" Kaiden pointed to the enormous ship. It was moving. It tilted upwards, lifting off the ground and standing on five massive limbs. They couldn't help but stare, awestruck. It was like an entire city just decided to stop lying down and start walking. It began to rise into the air. "It's leaving? But what about the artifact? What about the remaining troops?"

The answer came in the form of a white-hot beam that turned the entire spaceport into a crater. The blast came from one of the appendages of the massive ship. The implication that all five of them could shoot out powerful beams like that was staggering. There wasn't any time to think about it, though- they could see trees toppling in front of them, kicking up dust, as the blast wave raced towards them. Unable to avoid it, both of them hardened their barriers as much as possible just before it hit. The blast threw them off their feet and buried them under a wave of dirt, rocks, and the local flora.

"This whole mission is a failure," Shepard angrily coughed out as he helped Kaiden dig himself out. "One supermassive dreadnought. Unknown enemy. Artifact's destroyed. I don't suppose there's any chance the archaeologists are still alive."

"I got a map to the nearest bunker from the outpost. If anyone made it, they'll be there." Kaiden displayed it on his omni-tool. Another hike. At least the enemy was gone.

They made it to the bunker, which was surprisingly intact. With the entrance buried into the ground, it was spared from the blast of the shockwave. Shepard activated the intercom system. "This is Commander Shepard of the Alliance Navy. Are there any survivors in there?"

"Alliance? We need a confirmation code," came the response. Shepard activated his omni-tool, sending the encrypted code over. "Looks genuine. Come on in."

The massive doors slowly opened, but only just enough to squeeze through one at a time. Shepard walked in, facing several civilians holding pistols standing behind one officer with an assault rifle, all trained on the entrance. "It's alright, everyone. You can put your guns down." She folded her weapon and saluted. "Gunnery chief Ashley Williams, sir. How's it looking out there?"

"We were outgunned and outmanned in every way. They're leaving, though. Are these the archaeologists?" Shepard looked around at the civilians. Seemed like most of them had never held a gun in their lives.

"Yes, sir. We received the order to evacuate the scientists. I was sent to lead them to the bunker. Just before we got here, those… bots started raining from the sky." A forlorn look crossed Ashley's face. "I don't suppose… anyone else at the outpost…"

"We didn't find any survivors," Shepard told her plainly. There wasn't much he could say that could possibly cheer her up, but he tried anyway. "But we're getting all of you out of here. The fleet should be notified by now." Turning to one of the scientists, he asked, "Do you manage to save the data on the artifact? It was destroyed a few minutes ago. I'd like to know what I was trying to recover."

One of the scientists said to him, "We can do one better. We had to abandon the largest artifact, yes… but we managed to recover some of the smaller ones. We think they may have been an archive of some sort." He led Shepard to a room deeper down, where an assortment of strange objects were strewn about. All of them were small trinkets, the kind of thing that could be moved by five scientists in a hurry.

One particular object, roughly the size of a datapad, caught Shepard's attention. It was a sleek black colour with etchings on the surface similar to the artifact he spied at the spaceport. "What's that?" he asked.

"Some kind of storage device, from what we figure," the scientist stated. "Here- uh, have a look yourself." Clearly nervous from the situation, the man's sweaty palms did him no good as he picked up the smooth, thin object. As he handed it to Shepard, it slipped out of his grasp.

Shepard saved it with his biotics, pulling it gently towards him before it hit the ground. The etched lines began to glow green. The blue hue of his biotic field was starting to turn green as well. What-

* * *

_Pain_. Not the pain of his own body, but the suffering of trillions spread across an entire galaxy.

_Power._ He had power, but was humbled before those who came.

_Corruption_. Minds changed, thoughts altered, decisions swayed.

_Darkness_. Darkness moving against darkness.

_Infection._ A synthetic infection, a machine that grew into the body.

_Vengeance._ Destruction of destroyers.

* * *

Shepard woke up with a start. "What the hell was that?" He looked around, finding himself in the medical bay of the Normandy once again.

"It's about time you woke up," Doctor Chakwas said. "You must have been having quite the dream. You were in a continuous REM state for the past thirty hours."

"It was… I'm not sure it was a dream, exactly. I couldn't understand it, though. Don't worry about it. I feel fine now. I need to talk to the Captain."

Despite Chakwas' protests, Shepard walked out of the med bay. A few of the other crew members pointed him in the direction of Anderson, who welcomed him into the comm room for a debriefing.

"I've got a lot to report, sir. I guess you already saw our big problem for yourself," Shepard said.

"Don't worry about it. Alenko's filled us in on the details from the ground. We're working under the assumption that thing's a geth dreadnought. It just ploughed through the heavy cruiser in orbit like it was space dust," Anderson confirmed. "We retrieved Jenkins' body, along with the geth body. We're doing our best to extract data from it, but nobody's worked with the geth, except the quarians."

"Good. I want to know if it can help identify who killed Nihlus."

"I have my suspicions, but I'll hold off on them until we can get more solid evidence," Anderson said. "As for the ground troops you saw, they were Firasi. We managed to confirm it by some of the wreckage of the cruiser. Most likely agents of the Cerberus Corps."

Geth and Firasi. Two entirely reclusive races that essentially closed themselves off from the rest of the galaxy. The Geth had retreated to the Perseus Veil over three hundred years ago, ever since the Quarians lost their homeworld of Rannoch. The Firasi were technically a sub-species, or race, of humans. Although they technically lived in Alliance-controlled space, they had segregated themselves from humanity shortly after Grissom's historic jump through the mass relay. They claimed the planet Firas for their own, and hadn't been heard from since. The Alliance was officially tasked with keeping them in check, but it had been relatively simple. They did a little trade and otherwise kept themselves within their own system. Why would two races that lived quietly for centuries both invade Citadel space, and strike at the Eden Prime at the same time? Prothean artifacts were rare and valuable, yes… but not _that_ rare.

"We need to report this to the Council. Someone's going to pay hell for killing a Spectre."

* * *

**_Codex Entry: Homo Sapiens Rex_**

_In the early days of humanity's space colonization, there was one privately-funded space colony called Cerberus. The population was filled by invitation only, and top athletes, scientists, and war veterans were invited. The premise was that, with an entirely new frontier ahead of them, humanity could no longer evolve at the speed of natural evolution and biology, but with genetic engineering and selective breeding, in order to create a "guardian of humanity against the gates of hell." After only a few generations, they gave themselves a sub-species name: **Homo Sapiens Rex**, or "King of thinking men."_

_After Jon Grissom proved that habitable planets were available, and easily accessible through the mass relay network, all members of the Cerberus colony quickly claimed one planet for their own, Firas. Although relatively peaceful, the cultural mandate of continuous improvement has led to massive adaptation and experimentation with gene therapy and synthetic implants, causing some to claim the Firasi are barely human any more._

_The name of Cerberus still remains as the military arm of the Firasi. Their first, and only, notable interaction with the galactic community was during the First Contact War against the turian forces. Although comprising less than 3 percent of the total human ground troops, they contributed to nearly 10 percent of turian fatalities._

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes**:

- Since Bioware changed the origins of Cerberus around in between games, i don't feel too bad about changing it once more. In ME1, they were just a terrorist organization.

In ME2, they were a massive organization with deep funding that the Illusive man created and only took a few decades to go from nothing to rich and powerful than some governments. I'd like to know that investment firm.

In ME3, there's some talk about them being a rogue black ops group (that's also massively rich).

so my origin, hopefully, is still in line of what they _are_ presently, it's mostly the backstory that's changed: humans who believed fully in genetic engineering, restrictive breeding practices, and using any means to become more powerful. Supposedly for humanity's best interest.

- Note on the geth: why are they humanoid? I have to say the human body is a terrible design for a lot of things. Sure, the very first generation were made by quarians, and served as servants within quarian society. After a few centuries in seclusion? All i can say is that there's a reason why there are so many different species of beetles living on Earth... it's a very sturdy body shape. 2 feet, high center of gravity, and lots of vulnerable surface area? not so much.


	4. Chapter 3: Citadel Citizenry

**Author's Notes:** Fanfiction is a non-profit hobby

- I've come to realize one of the big problems about translating gaming into other types of entertainment. Making an active form of entertainment (gaming) into a passive form (reading) means a lot of the dry material is very, very obvious. Running around the bars to eavesdrop on a turian being friendzoned is fun in a game. It's kinda pointless and boring in text. A lot of sidequests are going to be cut out, but I still want to try to insert canon characters however I can.

- Part of the reason for slight changes to the plot and backstory are to make things make more sense. Another reason for doing things differently is simply because I don't want to rewrite the script all over again. We've all played the game already. It's a little more work, and more fun, to create a story from an outline than just retelling the same one.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Citadel Citizenry**

Despite having grown up on starships, Shepard had rarely seen the Citadel with his own eyes, even though it was the hub of all galactic activity. At over twenty kilometers long, this space station wasn't particularly impressive due to its size. The salarians already had robotic mining barges that could match its tonnage, used to strip an asteroid bare a week. Even before the discovery of the mass effect, humanity had planned to build a colonization ark about half that size. What was impressive was its _mystery_.

One of the first things that anyone asks about the Citadel is "Who built it?" Of the three dominant races, the asari, the turians, and the salarians, the answer is "none of the above." The asari were the first to _discover_ it, but at the time it was already several thousands of years old- by the roughest estimates. It has resisted analysis on every front.

The outer hull was made of an unknown material that every race wanted to replicate. Legend has it that during the original Rachni Wars, a small-yield nuclear device made its way past Citadel defences, detonating on impact. It absorbed the blast without a scratch. Further attempts to scrape, scratch, vaporize, or dissolve the material had been unsuccessful- for thousands of years. Nobody could even get a decent sample of it to a materials science lab.

On the inside, an extremely sophisticated supercomputer controlled all its major workings. In all of recorded galactic history, it has never failed, crashed, rebooted, or otherwise had more than a hiccup in its operation. Nor has anybody ever managed to _force_ it to do so. Hacking attempts were always identified and eliminated almost instantly. Even as computers became more powerful with every generation, they always seemed to be a step behind the Citadel's.

Then there was the layout. Quite simply, it seemed to be impossible. It stumped any engineer that took a hard look at it. Over 99% of the Citadel appeared to be habitable space. There simply didn't seem to be any room for it to have a power core, central computer, or mass effect generators. And yet, it ran. It created a comfortable 0.7g's of gravity via mass effect fields. It scrubbed the carbon dioxide and created a fresh supply of oxygen. It never required refuelling, and yet it never ran out of power.

It had an allure like nothing else in the galaxy. An impenetrable fortress, a supercomputer, and a comfortable home, all wrapped up in one neat package. Some suspected a trap, but after a thousand years of cautious use, everyone concluded the origin species had simply abandoned the galaxy or died of other causes. Nobody was _that_ patient, not even the asari. When its ports truly opened, every species wanted an embassy.

Shepard looked out of the Normandy's starboard viewing deck. As they cruised towards the docking bay, they passed over the wards- long arms where 99.99% of the population resided. Unlike any other space station, the city was exposed to space, giving the residents a view of the real sky above- but it still had an atmosphere, maintained by the mass effect field. He didn't get to enjoy this view last week- he'd been too tired from his last mission, and was unceremoniously tossed in front of Earth's ambassador before being whisked away for the Normandy's (and his own) "shakedown run."

Now he'd have to deal with the ambassador again. He didn't remember much about the guy, but in the five minutes he'd seen him face-to-face, he did remember the man as being a right bastard.

* * *

"You think your _word_ is good enough for the Council, Shepard? Are you here to embarrass yourself, and take me down with you?" Udina, the human ambassador, demonstrated that politicking was not a lost art among humans, despite a united Earth. Self-serving, two-faced assholes were innately good at making demands. "You have any idea how this makes us look? You're a Spectre candidate, Shepard. Saren's your main critic. You go on one mission with him and you come out calling him a traitor? We'll never get a council seat at this rate, and it'll take another ten years before they consider a human Spectre."

"Is the visor cam recording not enough?" Shepard asked, gritting his teeth.

"That blurry thing? You might as well try to implicate the Primarch with that." Udina pulled the memory chit and flicked it dismissively at Shepard. It bounced harmlessly off of Shepard's chest and clattered to the floor. "Don't come back until you've got solid proof."

Shepard and Anderson walked out of Udina's office. "Try not to Throw him out of the Presidium ring," Captain Anderson told him. "He's the reason we got the SR-1 project. He might be an obnoxious bastard, but he's obnoxious to the other ambassadors, too. Humanity's got a stronger foothold in the galaxy thanks to him."

"Right. How about a Slam instead?" Shepard joked. "Ah, just kidding. I'm sure the asari councillor will get around to it herself one day."

Anderson couldn't hide the grin creeping into his face. "I'll register your credentials with the Alliance investigation team. That should give you a little bit of room to start looking into things yourself. The Turian engineers are reviewing every byte of data on the Normandy, so there isn't anything else for you to do in the meantime. Any ideas where you'll begin?"

"We salvaged a lot of geth memory cores. Most of them seem to be destroyed in some kind of self-destruct mechanism, but if we can find ourselves a geth expert, maybe we can salvage some useful data. Something that implicates Saren."

* * *

Shepard walked into the Citadel Security station, unsure of how to begin his search. C-Sec was not a usual police force for several reasons. As the Citadel was home to many embassies and shared by multiple species, it had the greatest cross-species composition of any paramilitary force in the galaxy. And that was the second issue- it was more than a police force, it was quite legitimately paramilitary. Beyond the heavy pistols, submachine guns, and sniper rifles that most police forces would normally have, they also had access to heavy mechs, rocket launchers, and several squadrons of fighter/interceptors. Every C-sec officer had to be at least a Rank III officer in their home military before applying; followed by two more years of Citadel-specific training. They patrolled the inside of the citadel during peacetime; they could just as easily defend it from the outside during war.

It certainly helped that military men seemed to give each other a little more respect by default. Shepard decided to open up with a salute and flashed his credentials. "I'm currently looking into the death of Nihilus Kryik."

The turian sitting at the desk looked up with a start. "Nihilus? I guess this means you're putting Saren in your crosshairs, aren't you? Why don't we help each other out? You tell me what you've got, and I'll see what I can do for you."

Shepard found it hard to hide his surprise that Saren was already under suspicion by C-Sec. "So this isn't the first time Saren's killed a fellow Turian or something?"

"Hah! You use the word 'fellow' lightly, human. That barefaced bastard's probably got more turian kills than your own General Williams did during the 314 incident. This is probably the first time he's taken out another Spectre in the process. The Council wanted a Spectre that wouldn't mind some dirty work, and they got the dirtiest turian our spec ops spat out. I've been trying to bring him down for years."

Shepard extended his hand. "Well, it looks like we might be working together then, Mr…?"

"Vakarian. Call me Garrus. Can I call you Jer-?"

"I prefer Shepard. Just Shepard," he cut Garrus off. "It's nothing personal… I just don't like that name. Why don't we get down to business?"

Garrus flared his mandibles in agreement. He led Shepard to a secure interrogation room at the back of the station. "Why don't you go first? You were on the ground on Eden Prime, weren't you?"

"The only hard evidence I've got is helmet cam footage. Not the highest quality. Certainly nothing that can convict anyone, but it's pretty clear it was a turian that killed Nihilus." Shepard pulled up the video on his omni-tool and sent a copy over to Garrus. "But the more important thing is that he seemed to be commanding an army of geth. Most of them destroy their own memory cores if their bodies are damaged, but we managed to salvage a couple that might be good enough to pull some data. I need to find someone with experience with geth AI."

"That means you'll probably want a quarian. I can pull up a quick list of those of the ones who passed through port here lately, see if any names stick out. There usually aren't many of them on the Citadel." A quick search through C-Sec's records gave them a list of a thousand names. "Hm. Still more than I thought there would be. I'll remove any names that haven't been given a warning or fines for vagrancy…" The list was suddenly much, much shorter.

"That name. Zorah. Sounds familiar," Shepard pointed out.

"One of the admirals of the quarian fleet, and lead scientist. This could be his daughter coming here for a visit," Garrus commented.

_Right. Quarian admiral. Along with Xen, Raan, Koris, and Gerrel_, Shepard recalled. One of the textbook courses in the N7 program was getting to know the names and numbers of major military force in the galaxy. Most people ignored the quarians – the Migrant Fleet was the largest in the galaxy, but still comprised of outdated ships, with three-quarters of them being civilian vessels. Shepard found a little kinship with them – having grown up on a starship, he knew he was always an unusual child. He marvelled at the thought of an entire society that did the same.

"Maybe we can use her to get into contact with her father. We can save that for later," Shepard said. "What have you got? Anything more substantial?"

"There's a nightclub owner. Human. His name's Fist." Garrus brought up a hologram of the man. He was short, but stocky, and his hair was trimmed to a crew cut. He certainly looked like he could handle himself in a bar fight. "Does a lot of shady work. You know, credit laundering, drug deals, loan sharking, sentient smuggling, the usual. He usually operates out of the back of Chora's Den. I think Saren's recently made use of his services. Naturally, that means every bit of evidence on Fist is suddenly 'classified' and all warrants on him have been dropped."

"So where do I come in?" Shepard leaned back in his chair, frowning at Garrus. He didn't like where this was going.

"Sting operation. Fist can spot C-Sec from light-year away. You, on the other hand, are a bit of a minor celebrity among humans. Celebrities have enemies. Pretend you can make use of his 'services' and I'll have reason to bust him. Otherwise, just go with a fake identity and show him some money," Garrus explained. "He's good with his money, I know that. If you can find his financial records, I'm sure we can trace it back to Saren. If not, I'll get it out of him as long as I can haul him into the station…" The way Garrus's mandibles were chattering reminded Shepard a little too much of a spider ready to dine on its prey.

* * *

"Wait, it's just you and me?" Shepard was expecting at least a little more backup before heading into Chora's Den. Garrus was waiting for him at the meeting spot, alone. At least he was decked out in C-Sec armour, with his heavy pistol and assault rifle nicely folded up. He carried a sniper rifle in his hands. It was some impressive hardware, but in the end, he was still only one officer.

"When I told you all warrants for Fist have been dropped, I meant it. Saren locked and classified every file we have on him. Officially, the man's not even a criminal anymore. This particular mission is… off the record books," Garrus explained, his voice turning to a snarl. "But we both want to take Saren down, don't we? You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

"Easy for you to say. You're the one wearing the syntho-chitin armour. Not to mention your… is that an M-92 Mantis? That's a little overkill, isn't it?"

"Not if you see what Fist's guards are packing."

"Oh, thanks, Garrus. That makes me feel a lot better about strolling in there with nothing but my biotic implants."

"What are you so afraid of? Aren't you the same Shepard that took on a thresher maw solo a few years ago?"

"I was wearing armour!"

"Against something that literally eats tanks for breakfast? You'll do fine against these small-time thugs, Shepard. I got your back."

_I must be crazy_, Shepard thought. He knew he could keep up a biotic barrier strong enough to stop small-arms fire without a power armour's capacitors- civilian situations weren't a big deal at all. But this was the best lead he had to figuring out what Saren was up to. Having some backup would have been nice, but the Alliance didn't send troops into civilian areas without a good reason. And you needed a _really_ good reason for dropping them on the Citadel or else it would look like a coup. If Saren was stopping C-Sec from getting a warrant, then this was a lead he'd have to kiss goodbye if he were to play things by the book.

"I'd just appreciate it if you'd told me first," Shepard said, switching on his in-ear communicator and sticking it in. He hated these things- he had a phobia of puncturing his eardrum if he stuck it in too deep- but that was the only way to make it unnoticeable. He checked his wallet for his fake ID- Francis Wellington. And that ended his very short list of equipment. He walked into Chora's Den, and Garrus disappeared into the catwalks that led to the back.

* * *

To call Chora's Den a gentleman's club would require redefining the word "gentleman." The floor was sticky, the entire place reeked of cheap alcohol, and every asari stripper looked like she was either too young and naïve, or she _really_ needed the money. The patrons were all drunk, high, or a combination of both- if you weren't spending money, you were quickly tossed out. One drunkard, shouting obscenities at the asari maiden giving him a show, was even wearing a C-Sec uniform. He was human. Absolutely disgraceful. As he walked past, Shepard discreetly used his biotics to make the man spill his drink all over his lap.

It wasn't hard to find Fist's hideout- two armed guards standing in front of a doorway at the back of the club gave it away. Shepard strode up to them, slouched over slightly and eyes on the floor, trying to look as un-military as possible. Mr. Francis Wellington was apparently just a bodybuilding schoolteacher, after all.

"Hey… I heard, uh, Mr. Fist can help me out with a certain kind of… problem I have," Shepard whispered to the guard. "It's my ex-wife…" The guard nodded in understanding.

"Hands out." One of the guards patted him down. Thankfully, his gloved hand didn't let him feel the subtle bumps under Shepard's skin where the biotic implants lay. He motioned for Shepard to follow him, and then brought him to an empty room. "Gimme your ID. And wait here."

Shepard handed over the fake ID while one of the guards remained in room with him. "So… uh… how much does this kind of job usually cost?" The guard only grunted.

"I mean, I have a lot of credits to offer, but…" The guard just grunted again. Looks like they were going to make him sweat it out for a while. The ID Garrus gave him was from C-Sec witness protection - what if these gang members figured it out?

Shepard looked around the room for an escape plan, just in case things got hairy. The table wasn't bolted down, and it was pretty sturdy metal. One good Throw could knock out the guard in the room while shielding him from the assault rifle. He wouldn't be knocked out thanks to his armour, but a good heavy biotic punch would finish him off. The rifle itself was a civilian model- heatsink integrated, and very likely had an illegal firmware patch to allow for full-auto firing. Beyond the door, the other guard had walked to the left. That was probably where other guards would come from. The doors leading outside were probably locked again- he'd have to shoot through the lock with the rifle and give his best biotic-enhanced body slam to smash through.

"_Shepard! Watch out, you've got an incoming krogan. Don't let him get to Fist!_" Garrus shouted through the earphone.

A loud smash signalled the arrival of the krogan. One ton of heavy armour stomping through the hallway was hard to miss. "Stay here," the guard ordered Shepard as he ran out of the room, guns blazing. Before the door could swing closed, the man was thrown back by the blast of an unusually powerful shotgun. A few more stomps later and the door came flying off its hinges. Shepard deflected it with his barriers just in time.

In the doorway stood one of the biggest krogans Shepard had ever seen. The average krogan was already massive compared to humans. The runts started at two meters tall and weighed 300 kilos. The average ones were closer to two and a half, and around half a ton. The top of this krogan's hump was scraping the ceiling- roughly three meters. With his armour on, he was well over one one ton. He was probably old, too. The natural plating above his head was as red as his armour, a colour rarely seen, since most krogans died well before the age of 150. The scarring indicated a lot of battle experience.

"_Shit, this is bad. He's not just any krogan. He's one of the best mercenaries in the galaxy. Don't risk getting in his way, and just hope that we can find something on Fist's computers after the guy's dead," _Garrus advised.

"Are you Fist?" The krogan asked, pointing his shotgun at Shepard. Despite the threat, Shepard couldn't help but notice that was a _really nice shotgun_.

"Do I look like Fist?" Shepard asked.

"I dunno. All you humans look the same to me," he replied. "Small, squishy, and not blue."

"I'm a biotic. Fist isn't. I can help you," Shepard said, generating a blue barrier glow around himself to prove it. As if on cue, a new hail of gunfire pelted the krogan's barriers, forcing him to squeeze through the human-sized doorway into the room. "The name's Shepard."

"Wrex. If you got credits and need someone dead, you call me. You don't look like you could help, even if you put on some armour." Several guards rounded the corner. Wrex sent them flying with three quick blasts from his shotgun. It started beeping as venting ports opened and the distinctive hiss of the rapid-cooling system engaged, just as several more guards came running through the doorway. Wrex swore as he bashed his gun at one of the unconscious guards in frustration.

Shepard decided it was as good a time as any to show off a little. Time seemed to slow as he readied his Charge, instantaneously moving from the back of the room to the doorway. His mass shifted from near-zero to greater than the krogan beside him, sending the remaining bodyguards flying into the wall behind them. Even through their helmets, the impact must have given them a concussion. Shepard's implants were felt warm under his skin. He hadn't had to perform that move without amplifiers before. "You were saying?"

Wrex laughed. "Neat trick, Shepard." The venting ports on his shotgun finally closed and it gave a small beep. "If you ever find some interesting prey, just let me know."

"Actually, I've got one in my sights. Saren. You think you could take on a Spectre?" Wrex only laughed in response while he squeezed through the doorway again. Shepard picked up one of the assault rifles before chasing after him down the hall. "Hey, wait! Don't kill Fist too quickly!"

"What now? You want to make him suffer for a bit? If you want to get creative with that stuff, find a batarian pirate. I make living things dead. Never been good at the stuff in between."

"No, no… just let me question him first, alright? You can do whatever you want to him after that. I won't get in your way." Wrex looked at him for a few seconds, shrugged, and kicked down the doors in front of him. Shepard heard a gunshot through his earpiece at the same instant. He motioned for Wrex to wait at the door as he walked in. He found Fist was already on the ground, clutching a bleeding leg. The window behind him was shattered.

"_Sorry, Shepard. Made a judgement call. He was holding a gun towards the door. Didn't want him to get a lucky shot,"_ Garrus explained.

"Probably for the best," Shepard replied. Wrex could have used it as an excuse to blast the guy's face off early.

"So you're Fist, huh?" Shepard walked up to the man and kicked the pistol away. "Word has it that you're working for Saren. I need to know a few things. First, how did Saren contact you?"

Fist spat at him.

"I have medi-gel," Shepard said, activating his omni-tool to show Fist. "You'll get some if you tell me." He jabbed his rifle at the wound left by Garrus. Fist howled in pain.

"Through the extranet only! Double-encrypted messages, bounced off a bunch of proxies. I couldn't find him if I tried? He just gave me orders and money, and that was good enough!"

Shepard applied the medigel, but stopped the healing protocol halfway through. It was enough to stop the bleeding, but not the pain. "You'll get more if you let me know what kinds of things he ordered you to do."

"Just a few hits! And he paid almost ten times the usual rate for them!"

"Who?"

"A C-Sec officer that's been causing him trouble! Uh… Vakarian, I think it was. Two Alliance officers, Shepard and Alenko. And a quarian, something something Zorah, I think. He said to make them all look like accidents, maybe spread the deaths out over a few weeks so it would be less suspicious. We decided to start with the quarian, because nobody would notice if one of them went missing. My boys should be meeting with her right now…"

"Quarian? Where is she?" Shepard shouted, gripping Fist at the neck.

"In the alleys, behind the lower shops! Please, just let me go!"

Shepard didn't answer. He ran out as fast as he could. "He's all yours," he told Wrex as he shot past the eager-looking krogan.

* * *

Tali'Zorah nar Rayya never considered herself an adventurous girl. The most exciting thing about her life thus far had been the fact that her father had let her pilot a shuttle when she was only six years old. Oh, and the time she blasted an active geth to pieces with a shotgun. But that was just inside a laboratory, nothing dangerous at all about it.

She kind of wished she had that shotgun with her right now.

"So, you're the quarian that's been running around town looking to sell some _interesting_ technology, eh?"

_So this was a human, _thought Tali. _Never seen one up this close before. Is it normal for humans to stand this close? He's probably getting my suit's intake ports all dirty. I hope the filters are working properly._

"Well?"

Tali only just realized she hadn't spoken for a few seconds. "What? Oh, yes. Of course. I have some VI processors, better than anything that's available in the Citadel, I assure you. Based off geth design. Don't worry, though, the AI capabilities have been completely disabled, but it's still at least a hundred times smarter than your standard VI…"

"I don't think you really understand the deal we're offering you here." The man stepped forward while his goons walked around slowly, surrounding Tali. "Mr. Fist doesn't particularly like the idea of you setting up shop on his turf without paying the rent. Now, the penalty for that should be covered if you hand over… well, everything you've got."

She'd come wanting to trade for interesting salvage or technology, and the first people who she thought were interested customers turned out to be common thugs. With no further choice, she handed over a small satchel filled with dozens of chips. The man grabbed it, and looked inside. "Good. Sorry kid, nothing personal." He stepped back slowly and raised his pistol.

Tali had to admit she was naïve. But not _that_ naïve. The moment things had turned sour, she was readying her omni-tool. Good thing she noticed all their weapons were the standard type with integrated heatsinks. She released a swarm of sabotaging nanites; specifically ones that overheated weapons and disabled the cooling mechanisms. Their guns wouldn't be able to fire a shot for a few minutes. She wisely took the time to run.

_Click click. Beep Beep Beep._ Each of their pistols let off their overheating warnings. "Damnit, she got our guns! If we lose her now, we're dead meat!"

"What's the big deal?" the heavyset henchman asked his leader. "She's small fry. We scared her plenty. Fist won't care where she runs off to."

"No, you idiot! He wanted her dead! Not just shot, we're talking _dead_ dead. He's not this specific unless he's taking orders from someone above!" He crashed into some bodybuilder civilian out of his path. "Move it!" he shouted, shoving the man away. Or at least, he tried to. A biotic Throw sent him bouncing high off the walls. If that didn't knock him out, the fall back down to the ground certainly did.

Shepard had taken care of one of the thugs. There were still two of them far ahead of him. His biotics weren't just good for combat, though. He could still quadruple his mass easily, or negate up to 3g's of gravity. He reduced his mass to that of a child and practically _flew_ after the pursuers.

As soon as he caught up, he amplified the gravity field at the thugs' feet. The men tripped, slamming to the ground in an awkward position. One of them broke his wrists. He wasn't used to dealing with double his body weight. Too easy.

"Who the fuck are-" The other thug drew his gun out, but it was pulled away just as quickly. Pulling and throwing were the first trick every biotic child learned. The pistols landed safely at his feet, while a stomp to the chest left the man wheezing. Shepard removed their power cells before continuing on.

Shepard caught up to Tali easily. She was catching her breath around the corner. "Are you Tali'Zorah? My name is-"

"Keelah, get away from me!" Tali turned a corner, and the assault rifle Shepard had picked up from Fist's hideout started beeping. _Nice trick,_ he thought. He abandoned the weapon- it didn't look good chasing after the girl carrying a big gun, after all.

Now she was running through the markets, and causing a lot of ruckus to the vendors who had their products on display. Shepard had to stop her before the caused some actual damage and was arrested by C-Sec. He did it the only way he could think of- he Lifted her up into the air.

Even while mostly helpless, hovering well above the ground, she didn't give up. She reprogrammed her omni-tool and sent another wave of nanites at Shepard, who had to raise his barriers up to block them. "Calm down! I'm not trying to hurt you!" he shouted. He gently lowered her down and approached with his hands out.

"Who- who are you? Where are the others?"

"I took care of them. I'm Commander Shepard. Are you Tali'Zorah?" He extended a hand to help Tali get up.

"nar Rayya, yes," Tali answered. "Why did those men want to kill me?"

"Probably for the same reason I need your help. I heard your father's an expert on the geth. I need to get in contact with him."

It took a minute for her to get her bearings again before she finally responded. "He's quite a busy man, and as an admiral, he rarely leaves the fleet. Perhaps I could be of some help instead? I've been helping him with his research since I was a child. I know nearly as much about the geth as he does."

Shepard smiled. This was a productive day indeed.

* * *

_**Codex Entry: Geth-Quarian conflict**_

_The geth are the only known nation of artificially intelligent life forms. Created by quarians on their homeworld of Rannoch over 300 years ago as a means of intelligent labour, the geth began to exhibit signs of true sentience and self-preservation approximately 24 years after the introduction of the geth networking protocols. Initial attempts to shut down the network caused the geth to rebel against their creators._

_Every world colonized by the quarians primarily used geth as labour, and as a result all quarian colonies were lost. The quarians concentrated their military power on retaking their homeworld. Unfortunately, the latest and most advanced dreadnoughts of the quarian fleet were also managed with minimal live crew and consisted primarily of geth workers, and were quickly scuttled before the battle._

_The conflict on Rannoch, dubbed The Morning War, lasted several decades. Quarian computer scientists studied the source code of the geth extensively, utilizing security loopholes and exploits against the geth. The war ended with the loss of their homeword as the geth bombarded Rannoch from orbit, leaving the quarians with no planetary colonies to settle on. The geth ended all hostilities as the quarians fled, and have not responded to communications from any species since then._

_For the past three centuries, the quarians have preserved the source code for the underlying geth programming and network. They maintain that further study of the code can lead to new ways to combat the geth, should they ever return. The Citadel Council forbids the creation of AI, citing the geth as a prime example of what could happen. The quarians' refusal to delete the geth source code remains one of the primary reasons the quarians are denied an embassy on the Citadel, and are not recognized as a Citadel species._

_Little is known about the geth as they currently exist. No reliable reconnaissance data exists for the geth population, economy, or military strength. All probes that have been sent into the Perseus Veil have been destroyed._

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

**- **I'll be honest here: Tali's my kind of girl. Geeky, somewhat meek but independent and capable, and she's got a nice ass. But I never romanced her in any of the games. Liara seemed to be the default in ME1 (I got her without trying, and somehow got her while trying not to in another playthrough). I was planning on having a Liara romance since she's practically having asari sex with Shepard every time he finds a prothean artifact, but after writing this chapter I realized (this) Shepard's might actually prefer Tali. Who knows.

- it also came to me while writing this chapter that the galaxy wouldn't use Earth's (rather silly) 60/60/24/7/30-or-31-or-28-sometimes-29 method of dividing time. Perhaps the Earth (Alliance) military still does, but it would be pointless even for human colonists on other planets. I've decided to make up the galactic standard time:

- 1 second = roughly half an Earth second.

- 100 seconds in a minute. 1 minute ~ 0.78 Earth minutes.

- 100 minutes in an hour. 1 hour ~ 1.3 Earth hours.

- 10 hours per day, and 10 days per week. So the human sleep cycle is about 2 galactic days.

- 10 weeks per month

- 10 months per year. This roughly works out to a galactic year = 1.5 earth years. Let's pretend that 1 galactic year is based on the Asari standard year (Thessia's orbit), roughly 1.5 Earth years. (minor change from canon). Everything's base 10 because the Asari also have ten fingers. =)

- I just decided on this to make the conversions easier, and if I write "minute" or "hour" it's not going to be a plot-breaking difference which standard I'm talking about.


	5. Chapter 4: New Kid on the Block

**Author's Notes:** Mass Effect belongs to Bioware. This Shepard is my Shepard... sort of.

- So far I've been roughly following canon, with only minor tweaks here and there. Most of my changes have been in the codex entries. I've been debating a lot about how far AU this fic will go, and I think I've arrived at a general answer. I want to keep the general flow of the games, but at the same time, I want to "trim the fat."

- Some parts of the games didn't make sense, which I will completely replace. Some parts kind of felt like... unnecessary extra levels to extend playing time- which is perfectly entertaining to _play, _but not to _read_. Which means few, if any, sidequests. Unless they're plot-relevant.

- Also, I've rearranged a lot of things for a better "fit" with the underlying themes of this story. Let's face it- ME1, ME2, and ME3 all had their own ideas. Each one had wildly different views on AI, Cerberus, Reapers, Protheans, etc. Things will have to be... altered for consistency.

* * *

**Chapter 4: New Kid on the Block**

"What's this? And this? You've been busy in the past few hundred years, haven't you?" Tali exclaimed.

Shepard returned to the workbench just in time to hear her speak to nobody in particular. She'd been given the full resources that the Alliance could provide on short notice. She was now happily hacking away in the VI core of the research and exploration vessel _Starlight Vision_. Her relentless focus at the task at hand meant she was progressing far more quickly than anyone had hoped. She'd been at it for hours, without any breaks to stretch or food. "What have you found, Tali?"

There was no response from the quarian, who continued to poke away at the geth memory core with her omni-tool.

"Tali?"

"Hm? Oh, hello, Shepard!" Tali jumped a little when she finally realized she wasn't alone. "I'm still combing through the modifications to their code. You know that the geth all stem from a line of robots made for agriculture and menial labour? They developed combat protocols all on their own… it's fascinating."

"Yes, yes, wonderful. Need I remind you why I brought you here in the first place? I need to find out what Saren's up to."

"Oh, that? I pulled a few tasty mok'pots from the friend/foe ID bank. Take a look." She tapped a data pad off to the side.

Shepard swiped it up. Saren was identified by every facial marking (or lack thereof), complexion, voiceprint, height, weight, gait, and optical scan. These geth could memorize a lot of details about people. And he was identified as leader. Interesting. _The Old One_ identified as the "new creator," whatever that meant. There was no image or voiceprint associated with it, just a lot of jumbled data. Next was an approximated human, pointing out unique characteristics, like the cranial hair, five short-fingered hands, and elongated single-jointed legs with shortened, flat feet. All were considered enemies by default. The Human Alliance insignia was identified for killing on sight.

This was pretty valuable information, almost certainly proving Saren was, at minimum, allied with the geth and had been ordering them to kill humans. It might not be enough to convince the council, though. "Got anything else?"

"There's not a whole lot stored on local databases," Tali explained. "Only what's needed for low-latency decision-making. Oh! I think I might have something! There's a bit of audio in the short-term memory."

She began to copy data over, while the _Starlight Vision_'s supercomputer decrypted it in real time. The voice that was speaking was definitely Saren. "…you didn't detect anything? You're more advanced than…" Some of the recording was lost. "…raze the whole thing. We can find more…" It cut out again. "…Nearra first. Then Therum."

"That's all," Tali said. "The rest of the data's corrupted beyond recovery."

"Thanks, then." Shepard did his best to hide his disappointment. It was useful data, to be sure, but all this work yielded only a half-missing sound file and memory data only indirectly pointing to Saren's involvement. He'd wanted more. He _needed_ more. It was too late, though- the meeting with the council was scheduled in two hours.

* * *

The council chambers could hardly be considered a "chamber." They convened within the Citadel Tower, an enormous spire that stretched from the Presidium ring to the center of the station's rotation. The dedicated high-speed elevator could make the 2km trip in just over a minute, allowing its riders to experience a comfortable 0.9g's of gravity through lateral acceleration instead of mass effect fields. In that short time they'd passed through at least two dozen different scanners. C-Sec officers were everywhere. The view out the window was impressive, but marred by the multitude of C-Sec's CATUS fighters that were tracking the elevator. Security was obviously no joke.

Even after that impressive ride, there was still enough length left in the tower to house a remarkably high ceiling. The architecture was designed with a slight optical illusion to look as if it continued on forever, with the transparent roof giving a clear view outside, into the hazy nebula. An unnecessarily long flight of stairs brought them up to the speaker's platform. The platform itself was a narrow walkway which hung over a mirror image of the ceiling's design- it was as if you were walking the plank and had to stare down into an endless abyss. Finally, the council members stood on their own podiums, raised well above the speakers platform. It was high enough to make the speaker acutely aware that they had to put some effort into looking up, almost uncomfortably so if they had to maintain the position for any length of time.

Everything about this place _screamed_ intimidation and dominance. They were the rulers of the galaxy. And now Shepard was here to challenge their judgement. Saren, as a Spectre, represented the council, chosen to be an executor of their will. Shepard had proof that he'd committed atrocities. Proof that the council had chosen poorly. At least he wasn't facing them alone. Anderson and Udina were with him, both of them far more experienced in dealing with the council. They'd even pulled a Garrus in with them, even though Udina was insistent this should be a humans-only group. Tali, unfortunately, wasn't allowed in- quarians were considered vagrants, after all.

Now, was he going to submit before the council, or be forceful and direct with his request?

Udina wasn't going to like this. But then again, that man never seemed to like anything but himself.

"Councillors." Shepard stepped forward, giving a polite bow to the three councillors. He stood proudly and looked each one in the eyes. All of them looked down on him, as their physical position allowed them to do so easily. The turian councillor, Sparatus, seemed to make a show of it.

"We've been briefed on the supposed attack on the human colony of Eden Prime," the asari councillor, Tevos, begain. "As well as flight and sensor data from the Normandy. Now, this gargantuan ship that you observed is clearly a major concern for us, and possibly a direct threat against Citadel space as it is. Rest assured, we are doing everything we can to track it down."

"But it's not enough," Shepard stated bluntly. Have you been keeping track of your Spectre, Saren?"

"Saren? He's one of our most effective agents. His current mission is classified. What's your interest with him?" Sparatus answered this time.

"Simple. We have evidence that he was the one who initiated the attack on Eden Prime, as well as the one who murdered Nihlus." The statement obviously shocked all three councillors. Before any of them had a chance to recover or defend their agent, Shepard pulled up Jenkins' visor recording. Unfortunately, it didn't show the murder itself, but it was clear Nihlus was dead, slumped down on the ground. One other turian was walking away from him calmly, pistol in hand, and no other potential culprits in sight. The video ended when Jenkins was killed by the assassin geth- a rather shocking finish for the councillors.

"Trying to denounce your critics, human?" The salarian councillor, Valern, was always quick on the draw. He was also quick to jump to conclusions, unfortunately. "We know he's been rather outspoken against your ambassador's latest political… advances. There could be a hundred suspects from your video, and you immediately jump to him?"

It was true. There was no way to identify Saren as the culprit, although the type of armour did narrow it down to Spectre requisitions or the turian special military research division, which did research and development for the Spectres. A hundred was probably on the low side.

Udina was tempted to retort, but Shepard got there first. "Did I say I was finished? This is a memory core pulled from the geth you just saw, killing my soldier." He placed a half-burnt chip on the table. "It's nearly destroyed, but we did manage to extract some good data out of it. Combat logs and tactical algorithms, for one. This is unique data that nobody else has, since nobody else has encountered the geth for a few hundred years until now. What's important for this hearing, though, is the friend-foe identifier list and some audio." He put Tali's discoveries on display, along with a voiceprint match courtesy of Garrus.

When the three councillors turned to each other to deliberate, it still seemed like they weren't completely convinced. Valern was the closest to agreement as he replied. "Very interesting, Commander. We've kept the news about Nearra under wraps so far. I doubt this is a coincidence. Still, audio files aren't too difficult to fake…"

Garrus tapped Shepard on the shoulder. "Allow me," he said. He brought up more data against Saren- about three years' worth of data, mostly mysterious transactions made outside of Spectre requisitions, as well as his underworld dealings within the Citadel. Apparently cleaning up Fist's hideout scored him a lot of valuable info- for one thing Saren wasn't above killing innocent people to keep some helpful criminals indebted to him.

Thanks to Garrus, they managed to sway the Council's opinion past the tipping point- when Udina decided to swoop in.

"Councillors, we've had this discussion before, but now probably the ideal time for accepting one of your Spectre candidates? In only the past few days, you've lost one Spectre and another's gone rogue. We humans have lost an entire colony and we want Saren to be brought to justice. Who can match a Spectre other than another Spectre?"

"If that were the case, Udina, we would just as likely promote Vakarian to the position of Spectre. He's been one of the candidates for far longer than Shepard," Sparatus said. Obviously he'd put turian interests in front.

"That's unacceptable!" Udina shouted, nearly losing his composure. "I'm sorry. But we lose an entire colony- hundreds of thousands of lives- to the actions of a rogue turian. If you intend to investigate his actions with another turian… well, the conclusion should be obvious, shouldn't it?"

"I agree," Tevos said. "However, we've never had a human Spectre before. It's important we have the right candidate."

Captain Anderson shuffled his feet ever so slightly at her comment. Balling his fists and straightening himself ever so slightly, he stepped forward, ahead of Udina. "We've forwarded the candidate list to you months ago. Shepard remains our top choice and is more than qualified. The galaxy was ready for a human Spectre fifteen years ago. This time, we _need_ one. Humanity represents over twenty percent of the total Citadel space population, and one of our colonies was just destroyed by a Spectre. The council _needs_ to make a bold move to assure that there's still no lingering… discrimination against humanity."

"Arrogance!" Sparatus proclaimed. "This is exactly what Saren warned us about." Seeing the others' glares, including his fellow councillors, he stiffened. "Just because he had criminal methods doesn't mean he didn't make a good point. You humans are too bold, too eager. You don't bother to learn your place; you simply take what's in reach and claim it for yourselves. You're using this situation to demand _even more_ power within the Council, and it's a century too early!"

Shepard once again interrupted Udina's attempt at a retort. "When's the last time you even experienced real gravity, councillor?"

"What was that?" Sparatus was confused at the seemingly random question.

"How long have you been holed up in this-" Shepard waved his arms "-fortress? It's very good at shielding you from things that happen _planetside_, councillor."

"There are thousands of worlds to manage, Commander. Do you think we simply sit here idly? We manage the _galaxy_."

"You _think_ you have the galaxy in your hands, councillor. You have no idea how much is out of your reach. Eden Prime was one of them. It seems like the entire Human Systems Alliance is another. Let's get one thing straight, councillors. The _Alliance_ discovered Saren was the culprit. The _Alliance_ captured the geth units. The _Alliance_ has brought you everything you've seen here today _without_ your aid. We _will_ capture Saren. We _will_ have justice. And let me tell you now, when the _Alliance_ captures Saren, the only chance you'll be allowed to have a hand in his… interrogation is if the human who captures him is also a Council Spectre. So I'll ask you again, councillor Sparatus. When's the last time you stood in real gravity? Because the next time you'll see Saren, it'll be on a human prison deep inside a planet's crust." Udina was just about ready to faint, but Shepard stood fast, daring any of the councillors to step in his way. He was on the warpath against Saren, Spectre status or not.

Matriarch Tevos spoke first. "A compromise, then? We can have an observational period, with limited Spectre authority under the guidance of a more experienced Spectre."

Valern nodded in agreement, but it was obvious from his antennae's droop that he wasn't happy about it. "Yes, I suppose if we are going to do it, we should allow Commander Shepard to enter the ranks immediately. Time is of the essence. Who do we have on hand for mentoring?"

Sparatus crossed his arms and remained silent. Two to one vote. The best he could do was prevent this disaster from getting worse. "Mennor Geryk. He's stationed on the Citadel right now."

"No, that wouldn't work. We need a biotic Spectre to properly evaluate Commander Shepard's progress. Eremi Sellanis, perhaps?" Valern suggested.

"She is, but her talents are best put to use in… gentle interrogation. Not an Alliance Vanguard's best trait," Tevos replied, scrolling through names on her datapad. "Ah! Perfect timing. Tela Vasir just completed her mission. She's down at Spectre Requisitions right now."

She put down the datapad and looked at the other councillors. They all nodded in agreement, even if Sparatus did so reluctantly. "Commander Shepard, by the power vested in the council, we grant you temporary Spectre status. Know that your actions reflect upon the Citadel Council, and that the Citadel Council stands behind you. Spectre Tela Vasir will be your mentor, and will aid you in your missions until she deems you fit to serve on your own. Meet her at the Spectre office on Level Five. You will be briefed on your first assignment there."

_Wow. That was fast. I was expecting a little more pomp and ceremony for this_, Shepard thought. _Maybe a little music, too._ Instead, he was simply being ushered down from the speaker's platform in place of some diplomat who wanted to speak about some trade dispute. His fifteen minutes were up.

* * *

"So, this is the human biotic that's supposed to give an asari a run for her money, huh?" A battle-hardened Asari maiden was waiting casually at the entrance to the Spectre office. She carried none of the usual smooth curves of most asari. Everything from her cheekbones to her scalp crests seemed more rigid and angular, most likely the result of decades' worth of combat training. She was also wearing a heavy variant of the Serrice Council armour that wasn't in their usual product lineup. Her biotic amps and omni-tools were probably one-of-a-kind as well, Shepard guessed. It was leagues beyond his own, even if it was some of the finest Alliance N7 equipment.

"Ooh, am I really that special?" responded Shepard sarcastically. "I thought I was just here to kick Saren's ass."

"Not without help, apparently. So what's with the entourage? Most Spectres work alone, kiddo," Vasir asked, glancing at Garrus and Tali behind him.

"They're here to help me investigate Saren. And 'kiddo?' Really?" Shepard glared at her, but she was completely unfazed.

"Yeah. Really. And what's with that look? You might think you're a big deal among humans, but you need to remember that on the galactic scale, you're at the bottom of the barrel. How old are you, kid? You might even beat the Salarians' record for the youngest Spectre ever, and I heard human brains don't finish development until thirty."

"…I'm twenty-nine."

"Oh goddess, I was hoping you'd be at least forty. Sheesh, I just finish taking down a Red Sand operation and they reward me with a babysitting mission."

"Look, I really don't care what you think about me, Vasir. I'm here to take Saren down. You can do whatever you'd like," Shepard retorted.

"Correction, rookie. _I'm_ the one who's going to take down Saren, and you get to take notes along the way. Don't slow me down too much. When I feel you're not completely incompetent, I'll let you act solo." She waved her omni-tool over the door lock behind her. "Get inside. Spectres only." She waved Garrus and Tali away.

The entrance to the Spectre office was nothing but a dimly-lit hallway filled with sensors of all kinds. As the Shepard and Vasir walked down, they were scanned dozens of times in seconds, verifying their identity. A reinforced door at the opposite opened up a room with multiple consoles, some VR simulation chambers, and an adjoining firing range. Tela stepped up to one of the consoles.

"So, Shepard. You're going to hunt Saren. Where are you going to look first?"

"Well, Tali's got a list of planets pulled from the salvaged geth AI core. Following the list of planets we already know Saren's hit, and the next likely ones…"

"You've still got about five possible planets. Searching every one of them could take a week. By then you'd have lost the trail. You have any better sources than a broken robot analyzed by some random quarian?"

Shepard didn't answer. He didn't like to admit that everything he had on Saren was still speculative, at best.

"Watch and learn, kid." Vasir used the console to open a secure channel to… somebody. No figure appeared at the other end of the line. Even the voice was obviously being masked. "Shadow Broker. This is Vasir. I've got a new Spectre here, Commander Shepard."

"_Ah yes. Shepard. First human Spectre as of thirty-two minutes ago. Biotic. One of the first graduates of both the John Grissom Biotic program and N7 Specialist program. This can be a mutually beneficial partnership."_

"Who's this?" Shepard asked. "At least his info is up to date."

"His identity's not important. All you need to know is he's the _best_ information broker in the galaxy. And for Spectres like us, information's more valuable than armies." She turned back to the console. "We'll be working together for a while. Saren Arterius has gone rogue. Our mission, for now, is to track him down and stop whatever he's been doing. Whatever it is, he's using an army of Geth to do it."

"_Yes. He is a threat to all of us. Very good. There is a krogan on the Citadel- Urdnot Wrex. Inform him that I am paying him to work with you to take down Saren. Then proceed to Therum. Shepard has been given command of the experimental thermal-stealth ship _Normandy_. Approach the planet in stealth mode."_

"Is that where Saren's headed?" Shepard asked. He didn't bother asking how the Shadow Broker knew he'd been given command of the ship- Anderson and Udina only talked about it twenty minutes ago. This Shadow Broker was… eerily good at what he did. To the point where there could be a possible Alliance security breach- but there was no point in asking. These kinds of people never gave up their sources.

"_No. But there will be Geth resistance. Await further orders when you arrive._" The communication line was cut off.

"Well, that's that. We're heading to Therum. I'll show you what else the Spectre office has to offer you before we go," Vasir said as she stepped over to another console.

"Wait, that's it? He tells you to do something, and you just hop to it without question? I thought Spectres would be a little more… _independent _than that."

"Listen, kid, this is the reason I'm still calling you 'kid.' I'm showing you the ropes. Whatever fantasy you have about what Spectres are, it ends here and now. The Shadow Broker and I have a long-standing, working relationship that's older than you are. All his information's been perfectly reliable. It's called trust, Shepard, and it's something you hotshot humans don't seem to grasp the concept of."

"You think we don't know about trust? We've put plenty of trust in the galaxy when we joined the Council races," Shepard angrily retorted. This wasn't good- he was starting to lose his temper. He told himself to mentally focus- Vasir just had an abrasive personality.

"And what have you done to earn _our_ trust, hm? Stop colonizing Citadel planets like mad? Not shoot more Turians? So far, that seems to be the limit of human honour. The rest of the time all of you just demand more planets, demand a Council seat, demand Spectre placement. Even the Volus and their corporatocracy know how to take it slow and try to earn the trust of the other species, but humans just seem to know how to demand." Vasir ended her rant with so much emotion her biotics were flaring throughout the room. Once she realized what she was doing she reeled her powers back in. "Look, Shepard. You were born centuries after the Relay 314 incident. I've been alive for the entire thing. Your species hadn't even discovered the mass effect when I was born, and now your ambassador's already demanding a council seat. Your species doesn't understand patience. And if you don't understand patience, you'll never understand _trust_."

Shepard and Vasir stared down each other as the seconds ticked by. "Fine, humanity's been somewhat bold. But we just like to _get things done_,like how I'd rather be hunting Saren _right now_." Shepard conceded. "So what are you going to show me?"

Vasir reined in her emotions and stepped over to a weapons console. "This is the Spectre Requisitions console. You can bring up nearly any weapon on the database, including a few that's off-limits to civilians. You get a pretty big allowance, Shepard, but the Council expects you to use it to equip yourself with whatever you're most comfortable with."

Shepard spent a good deal of time searching through the available weapons. Most of the experimental weaponry had major drawbacks (which is why they remained experimental). He ended up choosing two weapons he was already familiar with- an N7 upgraded Katana shotgun, and another N7 Phalanx heavy pistol. The Katana was a quick-deploying, quick-firing shotgun ideal for fast-paced, close-combat situations. The Phalanx served all other purposes, being a relatively lightweight and compact weapon that had remarkably good accuracy at longer range, for a pistol.

"Interesting combination. Most Spectres pick up at least an assault or a sniper rifle."

"It's a waste of heat. Long-range opponents don't stay at long-range against me," Shepard answered. "I'd rather have my suit recharging my amps than cooling off thermal clips."

"So I've heard. I look forward to seeing that trick in person."

* * *

The group could see that trouble was brewing at the C-sec docks' security desk. A familiar krogan clad in blood-red armour was standing head and shoulders above a group of turian and human C-Sec guards, who were trying to stop him from going anywhere. Not that they could have without more backup- they were lucky that the krogan was just leaning on the desk nonchalantly (and nearly breaking it with his weight). A crowd of onlookers, including other officers and criminals being brought in to the station, were staring.

The krogan's eyes locked on to Vasir and Shepard as they approached. Vasir called out to the guards. "You dolts! Didn't any of receive my orders? He's with me." The guards quickly stood at attention. One of them checked on their omni-tool and quickly called everyone back. Two Spectres and a mercenary krogan weren't things you wanted to be annoyed at you.

"I was wondering when you'd get here. Hello, Shepard."

"Wrex," Shepard nodded to the krogan. "Looks like you'll be hunting Saren with me after all."

"You two know each other already?" Vasir asked, showing a hint of surprise for the first time.

"Yeah. This is the first human I've seen who knows how to throw a punch," Wrex laughed, slapping Shepard heartily on the back. It would have knocked him to the ground if he didn't see it coming and boosted up his own mass at the last second.

"Good. No need for long introductions, then. Just so you know, he's one of the few krogan biotics in the galaxy. Fought and survived in the Krogan Rebellions."

"Took down a thresher maw when I was young," Wrex added as they all stepped onto the elevator. "Heard you tried to take one on, too, Shepard."

"Yeah, and my entire team almost died," Shepard said, closing his eyes and shuddering.

"Ah, don't feel too bad about it. You're just a human," Wrex added. "Human with krogan quads, that's for sure! Hah!" He turned around to Garrus and Tali. "So what's with these two?"

"Garrus Vakarian. I was a C-Sec officer keeping tabs on Saren. Now I'm here to help Shepard chase him down. I was there when you took down Fist, you know." He patted the folded sniper rifle on his back. Wrex got the message.

Wrex stared him down for a little before laughing again. "Well, at least you were smart enough to leave C-Sec. Can't say the same for those other guys." He peered out the elevator window at the security desk, where the officers were still scrambling around getting things back in order. "How about this one?"

He poked Tali with a finger, enough to send her back a few steps. She let out a small "eep!" and hid behind Shepard.

"Does it talk?" Wrex asked Shepard.

"She can talk a _lot_ when she wants to," Garrus answered for him. "What? You didn't think we were just waiting outside silently, did you?" Tali's breathing filter started to work overtime as she glared at Garrus.

"What's she doing here, then? Heard about them Quarians. Just rip the suit a little and they'll go down. Kinda useless, if you ask me."

"We can _easily_ survive a compromised suit!" Tali retorted. "Just need a few antibiotics, that's all."

"We still need her. Saren's using geth, and she's our resident geth expert."

The elevator finally reached the docking bay that the _Normandy_ was berthed. Outside the airlock, Ambassador Udina, Captain Anderson, and Admiral Hackett were all waiting. Shepard stopped and saluted. Garrus followed suit, although none of the others did.

"Commander. We've got a surprise for you," Anderson began.

"Oh? What might that be?" Shepard asked.

"I'm stepping down as captain of the Normandy. I'm handing over control of the Normandy to you," Anderson said. "We all agreed that, as a Spectre, you could make better use of this ship than anyone in the Alliance Navy. Congratulations. You've earned it."

"Remember, Commander, this is easily the most expensive ship the Alliance has ever built to date. Don't break it," Udina added. "You're the first human Spectre, and this is the most advanced warship we've ever built. Everything you do will be scrutinized and written in the history books. Don't make us regret this."

Shepard held back his urge to roll his eyes. _What do you think I'm going to use this ship for, picking up hot alien chicks?_

"You'll be expected to serve both your Council duties as a Spectre, and your role as Commander in the Alliance Navy," Admiral Hackett said. "We won't be giving you very many missions, and we'll do our best to avoid conflicts of interest. But remember, Shepard, you're a human, and a damn fine one at that."

"Sir! Yes, sir." Shepard said, saluting once more.

Anderson stayed for a more personal congratulations as the other two headed to the elevators. "I'm damn proud of you, Shepard. You're like a son to me. Hell, I almost got picked as the first human Spectre ten years ago before Saren sabotaged one of my missions. I'm glad you're the one taking my place. Oh, and say hello to your mother for me."

"Can't thank you enough, Anderson. I mean, you're the one who recommended me for the N7 program. Wouldn't be here without you. And mom. You'll probably be seeing _Captain_ Shepard sooner than I will, until I find Saren."

"True enough. Good hunting, Shepard. Treat the _Normandy_ well."

"Thanks again, Anderson. Oh… and one more thing. I found out about this handover about twenty minutes ago, from an anonymous source. You might want to check the security of your channels. This guy knew when you and Udina signed the forms, down to the _minute_,"he whispered. He knew he could be angering a potential new ally, but he had to take care of his old friends first.

Anderson nodded and joined Udina and Hackett in the elevator, while Shepard's group made their way to the airlock.

* * *

_**Codex Entry: Council Spectres**_

_The Spectres are an elite group of special agents directly employed by the Citadel Council. Purposes range anywhere from diplomacy to destabilization, personal defense to assassination, or public relations to espionage. Spectres are not trained by the council, but selected from a group of candidates recommended by their achievements, background, and skill set. Spectres represent the direct authority of the Citadel Council and supersede any local laws, giving them the discretion to take whatever action they judge as necessary to maintain galactic stability. Once selected, it is understood that Spectre status is for life. This status has only been revoked twenty-three times in the past 1,400 years since the program's inception. However, being a Spectre is also one of the riskiest professions in the galaxy, with over 95% of agents listed as Killed in Action or Missing in Action._

_The roots of the Council Spectres began at the Krogan Rebellions. The species-specific bioweapon known as the Genophage was developed by the Salarian Special Tactics Group, but due to ethical concerns, its deployment was held back. One STG agent, Beelo Girji, utilized the STG's plausible deniability clause to deploy the genophage. This action, although considered a war crime, effectively ended the Krogan Rebellions and saved the lives of hundreds of billions. After the war, when Beelo Girji was facing judgement, public opinion remained supportive of his actions, threatening another potential rebellion should he have been imprisoned or executed._

_Faced with this dilemma, the Council decided to create the Spectre program and name Beelo Girji its first agent. It retroactively gave Girji immunity to such crimes so long as his judgement proved that extreme action was necessary. The Spectre program has been modelled closely to the Salarian STG program. Common criticisms of the program focus on how deniability and results appear to be valued ahead of oversight and ethics._

* * *

**Author's Chapter End Notes:**

- In the game, Shepard convinced the Council with a sound file of Saren's voice. This... bothered me. The current year is 2013, I can edit sound with free programs on the internet, and we haven't even developed interplanetary space travel yet.

- It also bothered me how little training Shepard got to become a Spectre. It was simply, "Oh, I guess Saren's bad. Shepard, be a Spectre and go get him." I mean, this is like an FBI agent being selected for transfer into the CIA or something. It doesn't matter how good you are, you still need at least some basic training or at least an orientation session to know how this new organization works... so yeah, throwing in Tela Vasir was one of the key AU decisions.

- Related to the Tela Vasir thing, this Shepard's a Vanguard, as you already know. Originally I had wanted a more generic story where his class didn't matter, but I felt like I the story could work out a lot better if his class actually became plot-relevant. We'll see how this goes.


End file.
